


Steve Harrington, Undead Monster

by ObscuredByLoss



Series: Upside-down vampires [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A lot of 80s vampire movie references probably, Angst, Blood Drinking, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Time, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Human everyone else, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Monster - Freeform, Neil Hargrove’s A+ parenting, Pining, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Smut, Vampire Turning, Vampire!Steve, Vampires, Violence, monster!Steve, oh my god the angst, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 34,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObscuredByLoss/pseuds/ObscuredByLoss
Summary: Instead of Dustin, Steve's the one who gets hit in the face with something from the Upside Down. Afterwards, Steve starts to notice something's wrong with him. The sun hurts his eyes and he starts drinking a lot of water but it never seems to quench his thirst. Should he go to the gang for help? Can he figure this out on his own? Is there even anything he can do at this point? And why does Billy Hargrove smell so good?





	1. Prologue

_Steve’s heart pounds. He strains his ears in the dark tunnel listening for the galloping sounds of demodogs running towards their small group but it's impossible to hear over the kids. Steve brandishes his bat regardless, ready for an attack. Unfortunately this means his eyes are focusing ahead and he misses something. From above a swollen pustule of growth bursts, spraying him in the face with black ichor._

_“Ugh!” Steve wipes his hand over his face trying to get rid of the disgusting, viscous substance. He undoes the bandana around his face and wipes it clear of his eyes, nose and mouth._

_“Are you okay?” Dustin grabbed his elbow._

_“Yeah, fine. I don't think any got in my mouth.”_

_“Gross dude.”_

_“Just keep moving, this was your guys’ dumb idea anyway.”_


	2. Chapter 2

Steve groaned and rolled over smacking his blaring alarm off. The sun filtered, blindingly, through his curtains It’s been a few months since Jane closed the gate and the party’s close encounter in the tunnels of the Upsidedown. Everything had calmed down significantly since then and it seemed a new equilibrium had been reached. Somehow, despite all he’d done, Steve still felt like he was on the outside.

Steve sighed. He couldn't skip another day this week. Sure his chances at getting into college were probably low but he wasn’t even sure his dad would hire him if he couldn't manage to graduate high school. Steve's muscles ached and he stretched popping his back. He went through his normal morning routine. The house was quiet, his parents were gone on another business trip, had been since Monday. At least that meant Steve could make some coffee. His mom hated him drinking it, thought he was too young, but he made some whenever they went out of town.

Steve threw on his aviators and pulled on a light jacket. He put butter and jam on a piece of toast before shoving it between his teeth and heading out the door. He stopped by Dustin’s house to pick the kid up and drive him to school. Dustin hated the bus and it was really the least Steve could do. Mrs. Henderson waved to the boys as Steve drove away and Steve waved back with his toast filled hand.

The drive went by fast and Dustin jumped out of the car running to his friends shouting goodbye as he went. Steve relaxed back into his seat in the parking lot finishing his toast and thermos of coffee. He saw Nancy talking with Jonathan walking toward the door. Jonathan pulled it open and held it for Nancy, she smiled at the boy her eyes crinkling. Steve looked away. A camaro screamed past his parked beamer, loud music blaring. The tires screeched as Billy slammed on the brakes, a few students gave him the finger after they jumped out of his path of destruction. Billy just smiled, all teeth, and blew them a kiss before pulling into a spot.

Steve threw back the remnants of his thermos and got out of his car. He didn't have much time before his first class started so he didn't bother stopping at his locker and just went straight to his class. He took a spot in the back. He was never a front row student, that was all Nancy. There was a time when he’d sat next to her, as close to the board as she could get. She’d stare, bright eyed, at the board only looking down to scribble neatly in her notebook. Steve's eyes had been on Nancy.

Sitting up front hadn’t really improved his grades much so he figured why pretend now that they’d broken up. Steve tried to take off his sunglasses as he settled in his seat but the sun was glaring at him from the East facing window and he threw them back on. Mrs. Schonherr probably wouldn’t care, Steve suspected she liked being in this classroom as much as he did. If he was lucky he’d be able to get a nap in before next period. Finally the bell rang and the class was dismissed. Steve startled awake at the loud sound sweeping his books back into his bag and heading out. His throat felt raw. It must’ve been all of that coffee. He really should’ve had some water too. Steve stopped at one of the fountains lining the high school walls in between classes. He gulps down several mouthfuls greedily but it doesn’t seem to help much. The liquid passes through his throat but it almost feels painful, almost like rubbing salt in an open wound. Still he’s too thirsty to stop. Maybe he’s getting a cold or something. He ends up spending the five minutes he’s given between first and second period drinking at the fountain. The halls start to clear out of other students and finally Steve pulls back and starts walking to his next class. Steve can feel the water swishing through his stomach but it feels like a lead weight and wholly unsatisfying to his thirst.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. Steve barely paid attention. He looked down at his notes from English and it was just a bunch of doodles. He threw his books into his locker. At least the day was half over. He wandered through the cafeteria. He’d been sitting with Nancy and Jonathan, it was hard at first but over the weeks it had gotten easier. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to seeing them kiss. Nancy was nice enough not to do it in front of him intentionally but they couldn’t alway know where he was so he’d seen them share chaste furtive kisses between classes. The worst part was Steve wasn’t sure Nancy had ever looked at him the way she looked at Jonathan. Not for the first time Steve berated himself for not seeing it sooner. Nancy was so much happier with Jonathan. It was selfish of him to try and hang onto her as long as he did.

Whenever Steve’s parents were out of town, which was a lot, they always gave him money to buy lunch. Being a senior Steve was allowed to drive off campus to one of the few fast food restaurants that had deemed Hawkins worthy of opening a franchise. Sometimes he went, when he couldn’t stomach the cafeteria food anymore, but he usually stayed at the high school to spend the time with the rest of the monster hunters. Nancy and Jonathan were a year younger than him and as Juniors weren’t allowed to leave. Anyway, today was mac and cheese day at the cafeteria and not even Hawkins High’s  lunch ladies could mess that up, he hoped.

Of course they had decided to sit outside. There were a few tables out there for when the weather was nice and ever since spring had sprung Nancy insisted on utilizing them. Normally Steve was fine with it. It was nice to get out of the stale, recycled air being breathed by hundreds of high school students but today was so bright. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and no matter what classroom Steve found himself in it hurt his eyes. He’d been forced to remove his sunglasses by one of his teachers and he was barely able to see and had to squint the whole hour, he’d put them back on as soon as he was out of the room.

Steve collected his tray with a generous helping of mac and cheese and a few scant vegetables around the edges and walked out to join his friends.

“Hi, Steve.” Nancy looked up at him as he set his tray down. He couldn’t help the easy smile that graced his lips. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to look at Nancy without smiling back at her.

“Hey, Nancy. Hey, Jonathan.” Jonathan nodded in his direction and Steve took his seat across from the couple. They turned back to each other and picked up the conversation they’d been having before he showed up. Steve tried to pay attention and be interested, it was something about Jonathan’s scholarship, but he couldn’t force himself to listen and he ended up zoning out. Not like they really noticed his inattention though. Steve picked up his fork and played around with the noodles on his plate for a bit. Mac and cheese was usually his favorite food, at least as far as the school cafeteria was concerned, but for some reason it just didn’t look appealing. Still he should probably eat something if he didn’t want to pass out this afternoon. He lifted a healthy forkful to his mouth.

“Ugh, god that’s awful!” Steve spit the food back out onto his plate.

“You okay, Steve?” Nancy looked at him, her doe eyes questioning and her brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, the food is just disgusting.”

“I think it tastes fine.” Jonathan said still finishing up his last bite, unperturbed by Steve’s reaction. Steve tried to scrape the remnants of cheese off his tongue with a napkin.

“Do you want some of my lunch?” Nancy’s mom usually made her a packed lunch and she was holding out half of her bologna sandwich. It didn’t look any better than the cheesy goop still sitting on Steve’s tray.

“No thanks. I’m not really that hungry anyway.” Steve lied. “Look I’m just going to head inside. I have a quiz next period and I should probably try and study a bit before I take it.” Steve lied more. He just had to get out of the sun, it was giving him a headache. Nancy’s brow furrowed further in concern.

“Okay, I’ll see you later?”

“Sure thing, bye.” Steve stood up and took his tray inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Steve’s stomach hurt. It had been aching since he skipped lunch. At least the day was almost over and he could actually get some decent food, well frozen microwave meals. Still it had to be better than that Mac and cheese. All he had to do was make it through basketball practice. He can do this, he just has to keep it together. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was Hargrove and his bullshit. Maybe he should just skip, he was probably getting sick. He kept feeling lightheaded and zoning out. He wasn’t sure what any of his class lectures had been about today. Yeah, he should probably just go home.

“You alright there, Harrington? You’re looking a little pale.” Billy sauntered up laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked at the other boy. His eyes focused on his smirking mouth, Billy’s sharp teeth biting into his thin lower lip and his tongue darting out. Movement caught his gaze and Steve found himself staring at the other jock’s neck, his pulse jumped against his skin, dancing against its confines. “you’re not going to skip out on me now are you, King Steve?”

Billy shoved his shoulder laughing and walked past, toward the locker room. Steve shook his head. He could make it an hour through practice, if just to wipe that smug look off Hargrove’s face.

Steve followed Billy to the locker room at a distance. He took his things out hurriedly and changed. He hated it in here now. Practice used to be his time, he was royalty on the court. The team used to joke and laugh with him. It used to make him feel powerful, almost like he could do anything. But that all changed, the same time everything in his life changed. Now he spent as little time here as possible. Dread pooled in his stomach every practice. It was inevitable that Hargrove's would mess with him, the only question was how it would manifest today.

Steve was changed and his belongings locked in its metal cage before any of the other boys. He rushed out of the locker room trying not to look like he was hurrying. He used his extra time on the court to practice free throws. At least he had a few seconds to himself, just the dribble of the ball echoing off the painted brick of the gym and the swoosh of rubber through net. Soon enough the peace was shattered and the squeak of shoes on waxed wood and loud, barking laughter filled the previously calm air. 

Steve tried to ignore the other boys and focus on his throws but he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder at them. Billy was leading the pack, of course. The rest of the team was trailing behind like so much garbage caught in the pull of a river’s eddy. Billy’s eyes flashed, meeting Steve’s briefly. His lips pulled back in a facsimile of a smile. Billy could mimic a smile. He could move the requisite muscles, lifting the corners of his mouth, and baring his teeth but in Steve’s experience what Billy called a smile was more of a sneer. It lacked the warmth the expression should harbor and in its place was contempt. No one else had seemed to notice this revelation though. All the other kids in the school were infatuated with their new king.

Steve turned back around, bounced the ball a couple of times, breathed in, aimed, and took the shot. A harsh slap of skin against rubber reverberated in the gym and the ball bounced roughly against the court before hitting the bleachers. Steve heard Tommy’s braying laugh behind him and Billy’s cold smile met Steve’s eyes.

“Tough luck there, King Steve.” Billy’s tongue flicked out to swipe against his lower lip. Steve remained silent.

“Alright, boys! Line up at the end of the court. We’re starting with suicides.”

The team lined up along the end of the court. Steve chose a spot on the end. Billy sidled up in the spot next to him.

“Start at the sound of the whistle and keep going until you hear it again.” Steve hated these drills. The only point was to wear them out, they didn’t have anything to do with the actual game. Still, at least it helped him zone out and stop thinking for once. The whistle blew and they were off. Billy was usually faster than him and he started that way. As they went though, Steve began to pull ahead. They stopped fast, turning on a dime, and sprinting in the other direction, their shoes squeaking loudly. Steve could hear Billy’s panting breaths, his pounding heart. It drove Steve on faster. He was breathing easy. He’d never run this fast and he didn’t even feel out of breath. Steve smiled and went faster.

Billy tried to match his pace but Steve just kept pulling ahead. Finally Billy’s ever present smirk fell from his lips. The next turn came and Steve was a full head in front. Billy subtly stuck his foot out and tripping Steve and the boy collided with the hardwood of the gym floor with a harsh thud. Tommy laughed again.

“Sorry about that, Harrington.” Billy walked over and stuck his hand out to the other boy. Steve brushed his proffered help aside and got up on his own. That smirk was back on Billy’s face. 

“Ok, ok that’s enough.” The coach blew his whistle stopping the scant students who were still running. “Group pu in your scrimmage teams. We’re running some new plays.”

Billy and Steve moved to opposite sides of the room. Billy and the other kids on his team took their shirts off, Steve’s eyes strayed over to him despite himself. There was a light dusting of sweat beading on his chest and Steve’s eyes followed its path. He shook his head, what was wrong with him?

Steve huddled his team up. The coach stopped by each team explaining the plays he wanted them to do. They’d take turns playing offense and defense, switching back and forth and trying out the new moves on each other seeing how each group tried to defend and how to work against those defenses. Steve’s team was offense first. They threw in the ball from out of bounds like the other team had just scored and got into position. Of course Billy was the one guarding him. That jackass didn’t ever stop. As soon as he was over the line Billy was on him. He pressed tightly against his back. Steve could feel Billy’s blood pounding through his chest. That couldn’t be right. They weren’t that close. Steve pushed back against the other jock trying to budge him but he couldn’t move the man more than a few centimeters. Billy pushed back trying to get Steve over the centerline. Steve held strong.

Steve shouted out the play and the other team members moved into action. A junior placed a pick on Billy and Steve used the opportunity to dodge his guard and dart around to head for the basket. The defensive team followed Steve and tried to pick up the guard but Steve easily outran him and made a basket.

“Alright, Hargrove, your team’s on offense.” 

Billy grabbed the ball. Steve took his place at the top of the court ready to guard Billy once he crossed the line. Billy looked down at the ball dribbling then glanced up at Steve. He sprinted with the ball down the court. Steve sped after him trying to catch up.

“Hargrove, you’re supposed to run the play!” Billy didn’t slow at the coach’s yelling. He raced down the court Steve gaining.  Finally Steve was able to catch him and prevent him from taking a shot. Steve pressed up against Billy pushing him from the basket. He could feel the warmth of Billy’s skin. His face was almost pressed against the crook of his neck. Steve pressed in closer. He couldn’t help himself from staring at Billy’s neck. He forgot about the game, he forgot about guarding Billy. Billy tried to push him back and it took every ounce of will Steve had to shrug off the impulse to wrap his arms around the other boy. For a moment he couldn’t remember why he shouldn’t hold him. Billy took advantage of Steve’s distraction and dodged around his guard making a basket and everyone on his team cheered. Steve shook his head.

“You doing alright, kid?” The coach had walked over to where Steve was pressing his palms against his eyes roughly. Steve looked up but his eyes didn’t meet the man’s own instead his gaze was stuck on the pulsepoint on his neck. 

“I think I’m getting sick or something.”

“I don’t need the whole team out for the count. Why don’t you skip the rest of practice today?” The coach pat Steve’s shoulder. Steve didn’t know why but he didn’t want to coach to get any further away.

“Yeah I should probably go.” Steve scrubbed his face again trying to refocus. He made his way out of the gym, grabbing his stuff before he left. As soon as he made it outside his stomach burst out in pain. Steve doubled over, dropping his book bag on the ground and clutching at his stomach. He grunted in agony. No one came out from the gym and he lay there on the dirty asphalt for a few minutes, writhing before he was finally able to pick himself up. He just had to get home eat some food and take some Nyquil or something. He tried not to think about what he’d do if this was something worth than a stomach ache.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive home was a blur. Steve tried to focus on the road speeding beneath his tires but it was difficult. More than once he found himself drifting past the broken yellow lines alway screeching back into his own lane. He managed to make it to his house without incident. His hunger was cresting through him in waves. He had to eat something, god was that really all it was? He’d skipped lunch before and it had never felt like this. It would stop, it had to stop. 

Steve fumbled his keys into the lock on his front door and threw it open in his desperation. The door slammed against the wall and Steve flinched at the sound. He hoped absently that he hadn't managed to damage the wall. His parents would kill him if he trashed the house. He’d worry about that later, right now he just had to make it to the fridge. Steve closed the door, consciously trying to be light with it. He didn’t even bother to lock it before he rushed over to the kitchen. He doubled over in the hallway a sudden pain erupting in his stomach again. He groaned through the sensation. He was so close he just needed to sink his teeth into something. After a short time the pain receded enough that he could form thoughts again.

Steve opened the fridge and recoiled at the smell. It was rancid. Had the milk gone bad? It smelled fine in the morning. Steve coughed at the cloying smell. He had to eat something. There was no way the entire fridge had spoiled. He raised the collar of his shirt over his nose in an attempt to block the smell and started to breath through his mouth. He started to sift through the contents of the appliance looking for something salvageable. He pushed aside the offending milk, that had to be the source of this rancid stench. He pulled out a package of lunch meat. The cooked, pre-sliced turkey sat flaccid in the bag soaked in its own discolored juices. Steve’s lip curled up in disgust, maybe not turkey. He looked through the other shelves and through the drawers. He didn’t think he had enough energy to make something. He just needed something easy that could tide him over. He finally decided on just having some toast with jelly, the same thing he’d had for breakfast. There was no possible way it had gone bad in the short few hours he’d been at school. 

Steve pulled out a few slices of the bland white bread his mother always bought. He sighed in relief when he opened the package and the stale, flour rich smell greeted him. At least there was something in this house he could eat without getting sick. Maybe he hadn’t closed the fridge door all the way when he left in the morning. That could explain everything, It had to be that. He’d just have to buy some new groceries before his parents got back from their trip. That would mean the jelly had gone bad too. That was fine, plain toast would be fine. The over-sweet blackberry jelly didn’t sound very appealing right now anyway. The toaster popped releasing the browned slices of bread. Steve carefully pried them out of the contraption and took a bite. He rolled the dry, rough dough around his mouth. It formed a disgusting sludgy bolus sticking to his gums like cement. Steve grimaced at the unpleasant sensation. Still, he needed to eat something. Steve swallowed the soggy lump rinsing it down with copious amounts of water. The residual taste hung in his mouth like a thick fog. He scraped his tongue against his front teeth trying to remove the tacky remnants of dough.

He gagged a little as he swallowed the last bite of his toast. At least he hadn’t thrown any of it up. The bread sat heaby and uncomfortably in his stomach but it stayed down. Steve knew he had the flu or something like it and his mother always told him to make sure to drink plenty of liquids when he was sick so he downed two more glasses of water before going to look for the medicine in the cabinet in the bathroom. He drank a few gulps of Nyquil and brushed his teeth hoping he’d feel better in the morning.

* * *

Steve sat in his bed staring up at his ceiling. He could still feel the bread and water sloshing around in his stomach everytime he rolled around on the sheets. For all that he’d been zoning out and feeling exhausted all day now that he was actually trying to fall asleep he found it impossible. He rolled onto his side for the seventh time in as many minutes. Should he go to class tomorrow? He was already on thin ice with the number of absences he’d garnered. No, tomorrow was Friday anyway. He could suffer through one more day. It wasn’t like they could force him to pay attention in class. He just had to make it in the room for roll call. It would just be a few boring hours in a classroom and then he’d be home free for the weekend. Who knew, maybe he’d feel fine in the morning?

Steve felt the drowsiness from the cold medicine finally kicking in. He rolled into a comfier position one last time before closing his eyes and letting the serene darkness behind his own eyelids sooth him unconscious. 

Steve startled awake sitting bolt upright in his bed and breathing heavy. The hazy memories of his dream flitted away from his waking mind. He recalled glimpses of dark, crimson waters and soft, supple flesh beneath his hands but the rest was lost to him. He took a second to catch his breath and slow his racing heart. He wiped the sweat from his brow and rubbed his eyes. It was probably a nightmare. He’d been having those a lot since the whole Upsidedown incident. Usually they were filled with razor sharp teeth and Steve being chased down a hallway. This dream didn’t leave the same bad taste in his mouth.

Once Steve had fully woken up he took stock of the way he was feeling. He felt at his throat as his mother had when he was a child looking for swollen lymph nodes and not finding any. He stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. He pulled aside his eyelids studying himself for bloodshot eyes or deep, bruise colored bags. He tentatively swallowed some water worried he’d feel the raw scratchy discomfort of a virus infected throat. There was nothing. Absolutely no sign he was in anything but perfect health. Huh. The medicine must’ve done its job. 

Steve went back to his room to change into some school appropriate clothing. He opened the door and his alarm clock caught his eye. Shit! If he didn’t hurry he’d be late. Steve changed as fast as he could first throwing on a shirt inside out and managing to catch his mistake just before he walked out the front door. He didn’t have time for coffee or to attempt to make anything for breakfast. Nothing really sounded good anyway. He slammed the front door closed wincing as it rattled in its frame the locked it. Steve turned on his car checking the clock on the dashboard. He was going to make it. Peeling out of the driveway Steve felt relieved. He was worried for nothing. Everything was going to be fine. He wasn’t sick anymore and he wasn’t going to be late and get detention. Hell, if he felt this good at the end of the day he might even go to Nikki’s party tonight. He needed to try to take his mind off Nancy. Drinking himself senseless was one of the easier ways he could do that.


	5. Chapter 5

“-eve. Steve.”

“What?” Steve shook his head trying to refocus his attention on the woman sitting next to him on the couch. He had his arm wrapped loosely across the backrest bracketing her in against his body. Her name was Brenda. She’d been going to the same school as Steve since first grade. He’d never really been interested in her before but he had to admit she was attractive.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

“You sure? You seem kind of out of it?”

“Just getting over a cold, I'm fine. What were you saying about Mrs. Ackers?”

“Ugh, she’s the worst. Do you have her for French?”

“Want to go outside to get some air?” Brenda’s cheeks colored a bright shade of pink and it took a few seconds for her brain to jump tracks. She looked behind her at her friends cheering on various students while they attempted a keg stand in the kitchen.

“Um, sure. I mean I’d love to.”

Steve led her to the sliding glass door which led outside with his hand resting comfortably against the small of her back. He knew she was interested in him. He was still too hung up on Nancy. He just needed to rebound. What he’d said to Dustin was true. Nancy was different from every other girl. He didn't expect he’d ever meet anyone who came close to her again in his life. But she didn't want him and he needed to respect that.

Steve had no intention of becoming celibate, especially when he was in the prime of his life. There wasn't anything wrong with enjoying himself with a willing partner, even if, in the end, it didn't mean anything.

Steve pulled open the door and waved Brenda through the opening. Her blush deepened and she smiled shyly at him as she walked past. There weren't many people outside. Most were watching Billy defend his title as keg stand king, they practically had the space to themselves. Steve led her to a secluded bench on the side of the house, out of view from most of the windows. The perfect place for a couple to have an intimate conversation.

They sat down together, their sides pressed flush. Brenda tentatively lay her hand on Steve’s knee and Steve put his arm around her again but started running his fingers through her hair this time.

“St-Steve, I haven't done this before.”

“That's okay. We’ll only do what you’re comfortable with. We can go back inside if you want?” Steve said but he didn't want to go back in there. He really wanted to stay out here. He wanted to kiss her. Steve let his fingers trail across her neck. He felt her shiver and he could see the fine hairs on her arms rise.

“No, I want to be here… with you.”

Steve leaned in brushing his lips against Brenda’s. Steve heard her suck in a gasping breath through her nose. He pressed his lips more firmly against hers and pulled her in with his hand on the back of her neck. She moaned into Steve’s mouth. Her hands hesitantly lifted to brush against his chest. Steve moaned in encouragement and shifted in his seat so he could pull her closer. He teased her lips with his tongue and parted hers eagerly. Steve sucked in her plump bottom lip running his tongue across it then nipping it lightly. Brenda gasped at the teasing pleasure and pain. Steve kissed the side of her mouth then over to her ear sucking and licking at the skin and cartilage. Brenda’s breath was ragged at this point. The only words she could manage were breathy exclamations and Steve’s name.

Steve’s brain was fevered. It was different from any lust he had felt before. He didn’t have the brain capacity to analyse it at the moment but if he did he would be alarmed at how his mouth was watering and the insistent hunger that had hounded him was rearing its head again. He might also be concerned with how strong the urge bite her was. Steve was no stranger to playing rough. He’d left hickeys and sharp red, scratching lines on his partners when they wanted him to but there was no reason to think Brenda would like things so rough. She’d already admitted this was her first experience. By all rights Steve should take it slow, be gentle. But he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel his teeth against her skin. Wanted to test the tension of that barrier before finally breaking it. He wanted to bite her, taste her, lave at the open wound. God, it would taste so good.

Steve’s grip on Brenda’s head became vice like. He moved his head down to her neck. He took deep panting breaths with restraint for a second and his body remained motionless.

“Steve?”

He leaned forward bringing his mouth to the flesh of her neck. Her pulse was galloping unsteadily. Steve’s tongue darted out to taste the slightly salty skin. Brenda sucked in a breath the gasp formed less in pleasure than uncertainty with a hint of fear. Steve continued to lick at her neck covering every inch of the unblemished integument. Brenda began to relax again lulled into a state of bliss. She began to moan again and even pull Steve closer. After a time Steve stopped. His mouth hovered over the pulsing artery in her neck. He formed a seal with his lips and sucked at the dancing vessel. His mouth was watering, he wanted it so bad. Steve pressed the sharp points of his teeth to her skin. Steve had a distant thought that there’s no way his teeth should actually be touching her at this distance but for some reason the realization it didn’t bother him all that much. He began to bite down, slowly. He savored the feel of resistance against his enamel.

“Steve! Hey, what are you doing?” Brenda could feel two sharp points pressing down against her neck. Was he actually biting her? “Hey! Stop!”

Brenda tried to push Steve away. Her hands clumsily latched onto his arms and pushed but he didn’t budge and inch. She tried to duck out from under his hand but he grabbed her hair and held her fast.

“Ouch! Steve, get the fuck off me!” Brenda was scared now. She looked around her and cursed her stupidity. She’d come out here all alone without even telling her friends where she was going. She should’ve known Steve spending time with her was too good to be true. “Steve!”

Suddenly loud shouts erupted from nearby. The glass door was thrust open and the loud, boisterous sounds from inside spilled out into the previously calm and peaceful night air. Steve’s eyes startled open at the sound. He could feel Brenda trying to push him away and struggle out of his grasp. He pulled back quickly, nearly launching himself off the end of the bench. Brenda’s eyes were tearing up as she held her hand to her neck and ran back into the house. What the fuck did he just do?

* * *

 

“Do you think Steve’s alright?”

“What makes you ask that?” Jonathan responded to Nancy. They sat huddled together at Nancy’s kitchen table their school books strewn across its surface.

“He didn’t eat lunch with us today.”

“Nancy, I know you want us all to be friends, and I do too, but it might be too soon for him. He still cares about you.”

“I care about him too!” Nancy replied indignantly. Jonathan smiled at his girlfriend.

“I know. Just give him some time okay? It might be too painful for him to see us together right now.”

Nancy frowned down at her school work. Maybe Jonathan was right and Steve just needed some time to himself. That answer didn't satisfy her concern though. Steve had sat with them for months. Why now, all of a sudden, did he need space?


	6. Chapter 6

Something was wrong with him, seriously wrong. This wasn’t a cold or a flu. It had to be the Upsidedown. Damn it! All of that monster shit was supposed to stop when Jane closed the gate!

Steve stumbled towards his car. He could hear the discordant, muffled music and laughter diffusing out of the raucous houseparty. He had been so close, so close to being rid of this gnawing, painful hunger. Maybe if he went back inside he could talk to Brenda. Get her to give him another chance. Yeah, he should go back inside and…

No.

No. God, what was he thinking. He’d attacked her. He’d, jesus, he’d tried to bite her, tried to _eat_ her. Steve’s stomach jolted in pain at the thought. Steve stumbled but he kept moving to his car. He needed to get out of here. Get away from people, from warm skin, and...and blood.

Great, now he was turning into Dracula. Oh fuck, he was turning into Dracula.

Steve managed to make it to his car without running into anyone. With the state he was in he didn’t know what he’d do if someone tried to confront him. Steve turned the key in the ignition allowing himself to relax a little and try to think. Where could he go? Nancy’s? There was no doubt in his mind she could help him. She always had the answers.

He couldn’t go there. Her parents might be there, her little brother, hell maybe the whole monster squad. More than that he couldn’t stand the thought of her looking at him like he was dangerous.

Should he go home? His parents weren’t coming home until next week, right? Or was it this week? Steve shook his foggy head trying to remember. His headlights bounced along the dark road dancing unevenly over trees and reflective paint lines. An oncoming car crested the hill Steve was on blaring its horn at him. Steve jerked his wheel trying to right his course. He tried to forcefully slow his breathing. He couldn’t panic, panic wouldn’t help anything. Try as he might he couldn’t remember if they were supposed to be back tomorrow or next Saturday. The point was moot anyway, Steve didn’t think he could safely drive all the way back to his house.

Hopper, he had to find Hopper. Was the police department even open this late? Wait, were they allowed to close? He couldn’t risk Hopper not being there. He might not be able to control himself around the other officers. He probably couldn’t control himself around Hopper either but at least he’d probably know what to do. Too bad he had no fucking idea where he lived. It was at times like this he really wished he had one of those nerdy radios the kids carried with them everywhere.

He’d go to the junkyard, to the old bus they’d used to fend off the demodogs. It was secluded, no innocent bystanders would get hurt, and maybe if he was alone, away from this cloying desire, he could actually think. He might be able to figure out a plan, maybe he could fix this without getting anyone else involved.

* * *

 

Who the fuck was he kidding? Steve was huddled in the back corner of the ruined, rusted bus. The sun had risen a few hours ago, the impromptu armor they’d reinforced the sides with blocked most of the light but the bright spotlight of an emergency exit on the roof shone down through the darkness. Curious at just how fucked up things were Steve had tried to stick a finger into the blinding light. He’d screamed in shock and pain as soon as the photons touched his skin. He was well and truly screwed. He’d never be able to eat Italian food again.

The hunger had only gotten worse in his isolation. It came in waves, washing over him in incapacitating bursts where all he could do was rock on the floor in agony before receding and offering a brief respite of lucidity.

He wondered how long it would take for people to notice something was wrong. If his parents had come home today they wouldn’t think much of him not being there. They let him come and go as he pleased. He used to think it was the coolest thing, not to have a curfew. His friends always had to make it home but he could stay out all night if he wanted. Now he knew better. It wasn’t because they trusted him or wanted him to have fun with his friends. It was because they just didn't care. They probably wouldn’t realize something was off until the school called on Monday.

That was the best case scenario. If they didn't come back until next weekend he could be stuck a lot longer. No one else was expecting him. Steve chuckled darkly. He didn’t have any friends to make plans with anymore. He could hardly count his ex-girlfriend and his replacement. Would Nancy realize something was wrong? She was smart, far smarter than him, but her thoughts were occupied by another man. They didn’t have any classes together. Other than lunch they didn’t see each other much during the day and he didn’t eat with them Friday. He’d been so tired and the cafeteria food had looked so terrible he’d just taken a nap in his car with his sunglasses on. If she thought he was avoiding her because he was mad or something she might not look for him for days.

Dustin! That wonderful curly headed dork. If Steve didn't stop by to pick him up Monday to drive him to school he'd know something was wrong. But he wouldn’t know until Monday. That was so far away, hours and hours of staring at rusted metal walls and the deadly reverse sundial of the emergency exit taunting him. He couldn’t be trapped in this goddamned bus for two days.

He needed to get help. His best shot was the police station. If he was lucky Hopper would be there. If he wasn’t, well, at least the other officers had guns to defend themselves with. As soon as the sun set he’d go there. No one knew where he was, or even that something was wrong. If he wanted help before Monday he’d have to go find it himself.

Steve felt a little better for having a plan, regardless of how bare and nebulous it may be. Unfortunately he couldn’t do anything about it right now. He was anxious, pacing back and forth avoiding the ever moving sunlight when he wasn’t incoherent with hunger. He was trapped, a caged animal. This was bad. The bouts of hunger were getting longer and more painful. He shuddered to think what state he’d be in by the time the sun went down.


	7. Chapter 7

Billy slammed the door of his car and screamed. It was a loud guttural sound that made the muscles on his neck bulge and his fists curl almost involuntarily. After several long seconds he stopped, panting. Then he grabbed a large piece of cylindrical scrap metal and smashed out the windows on a nearby junk car. He continued smashing the car, denting it's rusted metal sides and breaking off the rearview mirrors. He was sweaty and his arms ached after he finally stopped. Billy turned away from the car, resting his back against the bruised and bent automobile.

He’d been out too late Friday night. Not like it was any different from any other Friday night he spent at a party. There was no telling what his dad would choose to chastise him for. One time it was staying out too late, the next it was his hair looking too ‘girly’ or his refusal to attend church with his family. That last one had been a bad one. His dad had taken it as an extra offense against the Lord. There was no way Billy would be able to skip Sunday mass anytime soon, that is, if he wanted to be able to stand the next day. 

Billy clutched his sore side as he tried to catch his breath. The deep black bruises were still fresh. He probably should be resting, not beating the shit out of an old piece of crap car. He couldn’t stand being in that house another second though. He’d gotten adept at sneaking out when he was younger. It was the only way for him to keep his sanity. On nights like this, ones after his dad had really let into him he’d sneak out and take out his anger on some old junker, then he’d sleep in his car. He felt safe in his car. In the ageing walls of their house he’d hear phantom sounds, footsteps making their way to his room or charged whispers. It drove him crazy, never knowing if he was going to wake up to the angry face of his father standing over him, belt in hand. The bastard had waited all day until Susan and Max were asleep before teaching him a lesson. Billy tried not to think about it. The point of sneaking out was to take him mind off it, to try and be free, if only for a few hours.

“Harrington, what’re you doing here?” Steve was standing by the door to the bus. He didn’t reply. He started to walk towards the other man. Billy let out a rough puff of air that could be construed as either a chuckle or a sigh. “I already beat up enough shit tonight.”

Steve kept walking forward, mute. Billy’s brow furrowed.

“Harrington!” He kept moving forward deaf to Billy’s attempts at communication. Billy’s heart was still racing from his impromptu workout and his system was flooded with adrenaline. This was weird, something was wrong. He looked at the metal pipe lying on the ground. He’d have to bend down to get it, putting him in a vulnerable position. He wouldn’t need it anyway. He’d taken Harrington before, if he wanted a rematch Billy would be happy to oblige. Billy shook out his sore shoulders and arms then cracked his neck.

“Alright, pretty boy, c’mon!”

Steve didn’t seem phased by Billy’s posturing. He was nearly in arms reach now. Billy’s was ready.

Steve rushed forward. Billy’s fist swung out but he was too slow, Steve dodged it easily and he pushed the other man back against the car. Billy grunted with the impact, the metal slamming against his fresh bruises. Steve pushed his body against Billy holding him there. Billy glared at the other boy.

“What now,Harrington?” He chuckled darkly. Steve leaned in close to his neck. “Harrington?”

The second time he said the senior’s name was far more uncertain. Still the other boy was silent. Steve pressed his face into the crook of Billy’s neck. Billy could feel shallow warm breath against his skin cooling the sweat there. He was suddenly aware of all of the places their bodies connected.

Steve’s chest was pressed flush with the open V of Billy’s, mostly unbuttoned, shirt. Steve's right thigh was in between Billy’s legs. Wherever their bodies touched Billy could feel pinpoints of electricity and his stomach flipped over itself. Billy began to panic.

“W-what are you doing? I’m not a fag.” Steve pressed impossibly closer. He reached up with his right hand and held Billy’s head to the side. Billy didn't put up a fight. This couldn’t be real, Billy must’ve passed out somewhere and was dreaming this. Steve brushed his tongue across Billy’s pulse point tasting the slight salty flavor of his skin. Billy gasped and his hips bucked forward of their own accord, his hands were limp at his sides. He was embarrassed to notice he had the stirrings of an erection.

“Please.” Billy had no idea if he was asking Steve to stop or keep going.

Steve licked up his neck once more. His teeth were no longer those of an average human. Now his canines jutted down to sharp, lethal barbs. Steve placed the daggers of his teeth against Billy’s skin and scraped them lightly down. Not enough to breech the skin but enough to leave angry red marks in their wake. Steve shuddered at the feeling and bit down harder. Finally piercing the flesh and releasing a torrent of blood.

Billy screamed

Steve moaned.

Billy fought and struggled. Tried to punch, kick and gouge his way free. But Steve stood solid like a pillar, immutable. Steve shoved his hand over Billy’s mouth muffling his shouts. In that moment Billy knew exactly how a gazelle felt in the mouth of a lion.

Billy felt lightheaded. His vision began to blur. His lips felt cold and dry. He could feel trickles of warmth sliding down his neck and shoulders, he imagined it was probably his blood. His struggling became weaker and weaker until it was all he could do to continue sucking in laboured, panting breaths. All the while he could hear, he could _feel,_ grotesque sucking and slurping noises escaping Harrington’s mouth. Billy grunted and tried once more to push the smaller man off himself but his arms felt weak and fumbling.

In retaliation Steve just pushed Billy against the car and bit down harder. Billy could hear his own heartbeat in his ears and the sound was deafening. A high pitched ringing sound reverberated through his head and the edges of his vision turned dark. He felt a wave of nausea and dizziness overwhelm him. He had just enough time to think _I’m going to die_ before blackness enveloped him.


	8. Chapter 8

The world was a haze. His head felt like it had been struck by lightning, it crackled and sparked with pain. Billy tried to move. His limbs felt heavy and dumb. They ached as he fumbled against the rough dirt of the ground trying to push himself upright. The world swam in and out of focus nauseatingly. Billy shut his eyes trying to stop himself from getting sick at the constant motion but the dizzy feeling persisted. He finally managed to sit up and leaned heavily against the car at his back.

The sky was still dark out, though he could just make out a lighter gradient on the horizon. Adrenaline was still strong in his veins but his mind felt far from sharp. The foggy memories started to filter through his consciousness. Harrington had bitten him. Trapped him against a car and bit into his neck. Billy rubbed his fingers over his neck tentatively. He hissed in pain when they touched the sensitive flesh. He reached toward his wound again trying to be more gentle. He prodded at the edges of his skin seeing how extensive the cut was and trying to figure out how deep it went. He was no doctor but he did have a bit of experience in improvised first aid. All in all it didn’t seem as bad as he expected. The, _fuck_ , the teeth marks appeared shallow and it didn’t seem to have the jagged edges of a more violent and destructive laceration, it had already stopped bleeding.

Some movement caught Billy’s attention. He could just barely make out a sneakered foot just visible underneath a neighboring old school bus. Billy stopped moving. He couldn’t see the rest of Steve’s body behind the rusted metal. Billy sat paralyzed, his heart racing, his eyes tracking the movement of those feet feverishly. They were pacing back and forth, the disembodied shoes were almost worse than confronting Steve face to face. He couldn’t tell what Steve was doing or thinking, if he even realized Billy was still there, and awake. He had to get out of here. He reached behind him, keeping his eyes focused on the blood spattered converse. His hand pressed firmly against the metal of the rust bucket’s door handle. He used it as leverage to pull himself off the ground trying to be as quiet as possible.

Billy was almost standing when a wave of dizziness overcame him and he couldn’t help from slumping against the car like a tree that’d been felled. He grunted roughly when a bruise at his side collided with the solid car door. Fear spiked up his spine. He looked over at the spot he last saw Steve’s shoes apprehensively. They’d stopped moving. Before they’d been pacing in uneven stops and starts. Now they were frozen in place, their crimson marred toes pointed directly at him. Fear laced through him. He stayed still keeping his breath shallow praying whatever the thing on the other side of the bus was would leave him alone.

Finally, after what felt like a half hour the sneakers continued on their shuffling path. Billy sighed shakily. He was quiet. His life depended on his stealth. It was hard to focus, his brain still felt slow and wrong but the adrenaline helped to sharpen it somewhat. He moved slowly despite every instinct in his body telling him to run, run faster than his aching muscles could carry him. He didn’t look behind him as he went. He didn’t want to know if Steve was just toying with him, playing with his food. In this case, Billy figured, ignorance was bliss. Instead he kept his eyes on his camaro. The shining blue paint that meant freedom, in so many ways at the moment.

He made it to his car trying not to jingle his keys he opened the driver’s side door with shaky hands. He threw himself into the seat, closing and locking the doors as fast as possible. He felt safer with a barrier of locked metal between him and his attacker but he didn’t stop to celebrate just yet. He turned on the ignition and was about to peel out of the junkyard when his eyes strayed to the bus. The feet he’d been watching were gone. Billy threw the car into reverse, tires kicking up dirt wildly, and backed out of there as fast as he could possibly go. It didn’t matter where the fuck Steve was, or _what_ he was, he couldn’t outrun a car.

Billy drove recklessly, more so than he normally would anyway. Thankfully in the small town hardly anyone else was on the roads at this time of night and Billy managed not to crash. He slowed down once he reached his street. As panicked as he was he wasn’t stupid enough to risk Neil finding out he’d snuck out in the middle of the night.

He climbed through his still unlocked bedroom window closing it behind him for all the good the cheap metal lock would do against that demon. He tiptoed his way to the shared bathroom relieved that no one else in the house appeared to be stirring. He studied himself in the mirror, ignoring the injuries his father had given him, to finally get a good look at his neck.

It had started to bleed again in his escape but the flow was sluggish and would probably stop soon. He ran a washcloth under the faucet soaking it in cold water before dabbing it gingerly around the angry lesion. He was right before, the cuts weren’t too deep or big. They should heal without much problem as long as he kept them clean, at most he’d have a scar. After making sure he’d gotten rid of all of the dried blood he carefully cleaned it out with soap before finally bandaging it closed. Then he made sure to wash out the blood from the cloth before it had a chance to set. He’d gotten fairly good at removing blood from fabric.

Once he finished Billy went back into his room. His eyes scanned the small space, checking the dim corners and that the window was still closed and locked. He sat on his lumpy mattress and finally let himself breath. The memory of Steve pushing him against the car with inhuman strength then biting his neck flashed through his mind. Billy brushed his fingers over the bandage. He had to protect himself, he couldn’t just hope that it would leave him alone. Billy got out of his bed and went into the hallway. He took the wooden crucifix off the wall. It felt heavy in his hand. He felt like an idiot. God what was he doing? He felt like he was staring in some third rate horror flick. Billy looked down at the cross clasped white knuckled in his grip. It didn’t matter how stupid he felt, if it had a chance of working he was going to try it. There’s no way he was going to let some washed up, hicktown freak kill him.

  
Billy retreated back into his room taking the crucifix with him. He sat on his bed with his back pressed against the wall and his knees drawn up. He was facing the window, staring at it. He sat like that for hours. His eyes began to droop, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. He jolted awake refocusing on the window for a few minutes before his head nodded down again in sleep. It was impossible to keep himself awake even though he knew he might die if he slept. Time moved agonizingly slowly but morning did eventually come. When he could finally see the first rays of sunlight through the glass Billy finally allowed his eyes to close and his body to relax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments it really helps keep me motivated to write. I hope you like the new chapter and there’s plenty more where that came from.


	9. Chapter 9

Billy startled awake his heart pounding a thundering rhythm and his body covered in cold sweat. His hand ached, he had clutched the dark wood of the cross in his fingers all night. His door rattled with force a loud thumping reverberating through the wood.

“Billy! You better be ready for mass in fifteen minutes, boy!” Neil’s voice rang through the door. It was clear he’d been trying to get Billy up for some time. Billy flinched at the anger in his father’s tone. He’d had a restless night full of terrifying dreams of Steve bursting through his window and finishing what he’d started. It all felt like a dream in the stark light of day.

He could feel the itchy bandage adhesive against his skin and he knew it was real. He knew with certainty Steve had attacked him. He remembered Steve biting his neck. Was that what really happened?

It didn't matter, it was over. Right now he just had to get ready for church and hope his dad’s mood improved. Billy changed out of his clothes from the night before, making a note to try and scrub the blood out of his shirt later. He put on his nicest shirt and pants, the ones he only ever wore to church. He still felt jittery. Like he had to look over his shoulder all the damn time.

Billy managed to scrub his face off with some soap in the bathroom sink. He gingerly peeled the bandage off of his neck. He just wanted to make sure it wasn’t infected and change the dressing. He looked at it in the mirror. Small crescent shaped red holes dotted his neck. He didn't see the tell tale reddening of the flesh around the wound so he figured he was safe, infection wise. He was going to put another bandage on but he ended up looking at his reflection longer than he planned. His neck looked like the broken skin if an apple and his torso was mottled black and blue. He’d definitely seen better days. Billy sighed and finished getting ready.

* * *

 

Steve sat in the ruined bus, trapped for the second day. At least right now he could actually think. Although he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d attacked someone last night. It was Billy Hargrove, sure, but Steve supposed he still counted as a person under a broad definition.

No matter how he tried to justify it to himself, Billy had attacked him previously after all, no one deserved what he'd done. He could still sense the lingering taste of Billy’s blood. He remembered everything. Biting into him had felt like biting into a perfectly cooked Thanksgiving turkey after you’d fasted all day in anticipation, the succulent meat exploding in flavor across your taste buds. He remembered how Billy had fought him, struggled for his life. Steve had reveled in the fight. He also remembered how he’d finally given up and went limp.

The worst part was he hadn’t lost control. It hadn’t felt like something taking over his body. He’d made a decision. It wasn't the same as what had happened to Will. There was no shadow monster from another dimension puppeteering him. He’d been so starved he’d decided his life was worth more than his classmate’s. He’d finally been able to stop himself after Billy was worryingly still. Steve was terrified he’d actually killed someone but thankfully the other student had regained consciousness and fled.

Suddenly Steve didn’t want anyone to save him from this prison of a bus. He was going to get hungry again. He’d already proven he couldn’t resist the temptation. He was going to attack someone again. Whoever found him was in some serious danger. He wasn’t hungry yet though. He still had enough control to stop himself from hurting anyone else.

Steve stood up and took a deep breath. He walked over to the stark barrier of sunlight shining into the bus. If he didn't do this he might end up killing someone next time. Steve held his hand out in front of his body toward the light. He grimaced pushing his hand forward slightly. He kept his arm steady just a few inches from the threshold. He sighed retreating back to the corner seat. He couldn’t do it. Steve was too weak to even protect people from himself. He felt so powerless, all he could do now was wait until the hunger came for him again.

* * *

The service was long. Father McKinley droned on and on, straying from scripture to share unrelated stories about his own life. Billy couldn’t help but fidget in his seat. He flipped his pendant across the backs of his knuckles. His father glared at him and he settled for a small period of time.

He let his mind wander. Of course he couldn’t help from thinking about Steve and what he’d become. The other boy was a killer, he’d tried to take Billy’s life. Billy should put a stop to it. He should head back to that bus, that must be where the thing was hiding, while the sun was high and drive a stick through it's chest.

Memories of Steve’s strength holding him against the car flashed through his mind’s eye. Billy had struggled, fully aware of the danger he was in but hadn’t been able to break away. The only reason he was alive right now was because Steve had gotten full. He had felt certain he was going to die. Billy thought about walking into the junkyard, mounting the steps to that bus, and facing the other boy again.

His palms began to sweat and his heartbeat sped up. Billy fumbled the Bible he was holding in his hands almost dropping it. He looked over at his father and caught a dangerous glare, a promise that this disrespect would not be forgotten. Billy hung his head in faux contrition.

He could go to the cops. He knew they’d never believe the full story but he didn't need to tell them everything that had happened. He could just say Steve had attacked him, maybe suggest it was in retaliation. That would be believable. Then he thought about the way the cop had acted after his last fight with Steve. It had almost felt like they were old buddies. There’s no way they’d listen to him over Harrington.

No one would care if he wound up dead. He was safe right now, he’d gotten away. Going back would just be risking his life for what? For some manure smelling redneck town so small it didn’t show up on most maps? Who gave a fuck what happened to this town anyway? It deserved to die, let that parasite destroy it. All he had to do was watch his own back.

Billy was the last to walk into the house, trailing behind the rest of his family. Susan went straight to the kitchen and began preparing lunch for everyone.

“Can I go to the arcade to hangout with my friends?” Max asked her mother.

“Go ask your father.” Max pouted a little at her mother’s response but did as she was told. Billy was envious of her naivety. Just go ask your father, like it would ever be that simple for him. He’d give his father a wide berth today and hopefully his temper would cool before Susan and Max went to bed.

“Neil, can I go to the arcade?” Max pleaded. She always preferred to ask her mom for things but she still knew how to charm her stepdad. She had never seen the full extent of how Neil treated Billy, his father had made sure of that, but she’d picked up on enough to act cautiously around him. That was part of why he hated her. She was in this shining bubble of happiness, oblivious to everything else going on around her.

“You know Sunday night if family night. Why don’t you just tell your friends you’ll see them tomorrow.” Max accepted the answer without protest. It wasn’t long before Susan called everyone in to eat.

It was an excruciatingly long and awkward day. Neil had been trying to force family bonding since they’d moved. It usually consisted of eating meals in silence or all watching a movie on TV. Finally it was over and Max was heading to bed. Billy had just started to hope that Neil would leave him alone for the night when he barged into his room.

“What is wrong with you, boy? Actin up in Church? I raised you better than that.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I hadn’t slept well, I was tired.”

“You hadn’t slept well so you thought it was ok to drop the word of god on the floor in a Church?’

“I didn’t drop it.”

“Excuse me?”

“I caught it.” Billy’s head snapped to the side as his father’s hand collided with his jaw.

“You will show respect.”

“Yes, Sir.” Thankfully Neil didn’t seem interested in continuing their talk and left. Billy rubbed his sore cheek. He could taste blood in his mouth where his tooth had cut into the meat of his cheek. He probed the cut with his tongue but it wasn’t too bad. He dug out a bottle of whiskey he’d stashed under his bed and took a swig. The extra burn against the opening in his cheek had him grimacing. If Steve comes for him he doesn’t want Max or Susan getting in the way. He took his crucifix and his bottle of whiskey and went to go sit on the back porch. The sun would be setting soon.

* * *

Steve can’t help himself. The sun had gone down. His hunger had returned, just like he knew it would. No one had come for him. He knew they wouldn’t. He’s happy about that he guesses. If they had come he probably would’ve tried to kill them. That knowledge doesn’t stop him from feeling the most isolated he’s ever felt. He’d been missing for two days without anyone noticing.

He goes to billy’s house. He isn’t sure exactly why he wants to go there. That’s a lie. He knows exactly what he’s doing there. He’s so goddamn hungry. He won’t kill him, he won’t.

* * *

It’s hard to see much beyond the porch light. The inside of the house has grown quiet. Neil finally turning off the droning TV and joining Susan in slumber. Billy couldn’t sleep even if he tried. The enclosed space of his room had just heightened the fear. At least out here he could see if something was coming. Logically he knew he was probably safer inside but it didn’t feel like it.

What was that? Billy squinted into the distance willing his eyes to work better in the dim light. He thought he saw something rustling the leaves of the tree at the edge of his yard. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe all of this was nothing and he was losing his damn mind. Billy took another pull from the near empty bottle at his side. He heard the soft shuffling sounds of leaves again and he snapped his head around. Goddamnit there was definitely something out there.

He should go back inside. He should get in his car and drive back to California, nothing like this would’ve happened in california. Instead of doing either of those things Billy stands up, he sways a little, unsteady with drink. He brandishes the cross in front of him, looking far more confident than he feels. He starts walking toward the trees.

His steps are unsure and unsteady. He continues to scan the foliage hoping it’s just some dumb racoon or something. He can feel the prickling sensation of eyes on the back of his neck. This is so stupid, he should go back inside. Billy turns around to head back to the house when he’s slammed him, with force, into the ground.

He’s crushed into the ground on his front, the cross buried beneath his torso along with one of his hands. He struggles wildly, panic gripping every limb in his body. In his flailing he managed to turn himself over and meet the eyes of his attacker. He’s not surprised to see the other boy, his eyes wide and feral. Billy thrusts the holy symbol in his face. Steve smacks the extended arm away sending the cross skittering across the ground. Billy looks after it dumbfounded. It hadn’t done anything, Steve hadn’t even flinched away from it. He was so stupid why was he so sure that would work? Now he was going to die for his mistake.

Steve straddles Billy’s legs. One hand on Billy’s wrist holding it in place above his head the other covering his mouth and holding his head to the side. Steve sniffs at his neck, at the bandage covering the old wound. He pulls the adhesive loose exposing the scabbed over gash. Steve growls, his humanity completely void. He bends low and licks at the old puncture marks. Billy Shivers. His eyes are closed. He doesn’t think about Steve sitting on top of him licking his skin. He doesn’t think about how many times his mind has strayed to a similar situation. He’s hyper aware of everywhere Steve is touching him. He continues to fight to free himself but it’s just as hopeless today as yesterday. Steve scrapes his fangs against the skin, lightly. Not puncturing but leaving angry red lines, then licks them. It’s agonizing and seems to go on forever. The skin on his neck grows sensitive and raw, every pass of Steve’s tongue becomes a mix of pain and pleasure. Shame surges through Billy when he realizes his body is responding to his compromising position.

Finally Steve bites bites him and it’s almost a relief, to finally be done with waiting. Billy still tries to scream. Steve’s still covering his mouth and the muffled sound doesn’t travel. Steve bites him in the same spot his teeth reveling in the feeling of splitting open the old lesions. He stays there for several long minutes pulling at the wound. Tears filter through Billy’s eyelashes. He just needs this to be over. After several agonisingly long minutes Steve pulls back with a sigh, eyes closed. Billy stays still worried if he moves he might prompt another attack but he can’t help cracking his eyes open. There’s streaks of blood running down Steve’s chin and his teeth are unnaturally long and pointed. Steve’s grip on billy laxes and Billy seizes the opportunity for escape. He scurries back, cross forgotten, and runs back to his house.

Billy throws open the backdoor slamming it closed right behind him. He looks out the window at the spot Steve had just been but he’s gone. The house is quiet, apparently everyone was able to sleep through his attack. The only proof of what had happened was the fresh blood pouring from his neck. What about Max? Billy walks quietly to her room. He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t want to wake her. The door creaks open just enough for him to see her bright red hair against the sheets of her bed. She’s fast asleep, once more oblivious to the danger around her. He can’t just let this go. Steve’s not going to stop. He’s just going to come back, again and again until Billy’s dead. It was time to stop playing defense, he was always better at offense anyway.


	10. Chapter 10

Billy was exhausted. He’d hardly slept for two nights. What rest he managed to grab was swiftly ripped from him with haunting, horrifying images and, if the universe decided he particularly deserved it, sensations. His brain hummed fuzzily from tiredness in the morning light. His skin felt too tight and clammy. He had to end this, one way or another. 

He went through the motions of getting ready but unlike a normal school day he put on his worst pair of clothing, the things he wore when he worked on his car. Despite his attempts to avoid looking at his reflection his eyes reflexively sought his visage. He looked like hell. There were heavy bags under his eyes that looked more like he’d gotten in a fight than skipped a few hours of sleep. His hair was flat and tangled. His face had an unhealthy gaunt pallor. His normally warm, sun-kissed tone was almost completely gone. He wondered if it was from the blood loss or the sleep deprivation.

He hated that the most. He’d worked hard to cultivate his tanned Californian look. His tan was one of the few things he’d been able to take with him. It was just one more thing this little slice of hell had stolen from him. Billy felt his anger growing and he took a deep breath trying to calm down. He could get angry later. Now he just needed to keep it together enough to get Max to school.

The bitch was already waiting with her skateboard and backpack when he finished. Susan said goodbye as they walked out the door and Billy threw a wave over his shoulder, he had to be respectful after all.

“You look like crap.” Max looked over at her step-brother.

Billy cranked the radio up and flew down the road. Max was gripping the side of the door white knuckled but she kept looking over at him.

“Are you ok?” She tried to yell over the loud rock music. Billy just pointed to his ear, pretending he couldn’t hear her. She gave up easily, turning forward and ignoring him.

It was a short drive to the school, well it was short when you drove eighty. Billy’s Camaro was a familiar site around town at this point and hardly anyone glared over at them when his tires screeched to a stop. Billy found he missed the incredulous and shocked expressions people would throw at him as he sped past. Now his arrival barely even garnered acknowledgement.

Max climbed out of the passenger seat. Billy barely waited for Max to close the door before he threw his car in reverse. Max flipping up her middle finger at him as he left. The middle school and High School shared a parking lot so there was the possibility a teacher would see his Camaro peeling out of the lot and call Neil but it was a risk he had to take. This was life or death. He doubted any of the students would rat him out at least, they all adored him.

Billy pulled back into his driveway, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when he saw his father’s car was gone. First he went to the garage. It was more of a workshop really. Anything they had that broke, or if Neil found a good deal on something he thought could be fixed, was thrown in here. It was also where Billy worked on his camaro. It was where he spent most of his time. 

Where was it? Ah, there! He shuffled around some debris pulling out an old kitchen chair that had seen better days. His dad had put it in here claiming it just needed a good sanding, that had been right after they moved here, months ago. Billy figured it wouldn’t be missed and broke off a wooden chair leg. It was about a foot long. He tested the splintered end with his thumb, it was certainly sharp. Yeah, he could work with this. Next he went back inside to pilfer Susan’s handheld mirror. Given that the crucifix had been about as useful as politely asking Steve to stop he couldn’t be sure sunlight would be a real deterrent, but the fact that Steve hadn’t come for him during the day strongly suggested it was.

If Steve was hiding out on the bus chances were he had it blacked out. Sunlight, if it worked, would be his biggest advantage. A plan began to form in his mind. He’d try to smash open the windows on the bus, get as much sunlight inside as possible. Then he’d corner it using the mirror before stabbing it. If sunlight was useless he’d just have to take his chances with the stake. He was a better fighter than Steve, he’d proven that much. Sure things had changed but Billy had to believe he could beat him...or he was going to fucking die. No use worrying about it now. If he didn’t go after Steve today he would just come for Billy tonight.

Billy tried to think of other things he’d need but nothing came to his mind and the longer he put this off the more doubts crept into his thoughts. Finally he decided it was now or never and went back to his car. The drive to the junkyard was excruciating. He blasted his music futilely trying to drown out the sound of his own thoughts. He could feel himself slipping into panic. His shaking fingers skittered their way through his glove compartment working out an unlit cigarette. He finally managed to light it after several tries and inhaled deeply. He felt the thick smoke coating his airways and after a few strong puffs he could feel the cool hand of nicotine soothing his nerves.

He arrived at the junkyard just as his third cigarette crumbled to ashes out his window. The large hunk of scrap metal in the shape of a bus loomed before him. Even in the bright light of day it seemed foreboding. That was probably just because Billy knew what lurked inside of it. To him the warped metal of the windows looked like jagged rows of rotting, deformed teeth just waiting for him to get close enough to bite. The lack of sleep must be wreaking havoc on his imagination. Billy shook his head to clear his thoughts, it was just a damn bus. 

* * *

 

Steve had felt drowsy as soon as the sun had started to rise. He’d retreated back to the bus that had become his makeshift hideout. He’d thought about going home or somewhere else with a phone and trying to call Hopper. But there was still the possibility his parents were home and he couldn’t risk biting anyone else. 

Steve’s leg twitched as he slept, the noon day sun shining overhead. His mind was filled with disturbing and confusing thoughts. 

_ Steve lay down on his bed with Nancy in arms reach. He smiled at the girl and she returned it softly. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers the soft, warm skin sliding against his. Steve’s hand slid upwards under Nancy’s shirt finding its way beneath her bra and making her gasp when his fingers circled her nipples. He was getting hard. He deepened the kiss pinning her beneath his bulk and licking at the wet seam of her lips. She let him in eagerly, spreading her legs apart so his hips could rest against hers. He began to rock his pelvis forward rubbing his arousal against her. She moaned his name into his ear as he kissed his way down to her neck. Her skin was so soft, he started to bite it. Just light nips making her gasp and squirm. _

_ It all became too much and he couldn’t hold back. He bit her neck, opening her flesh. Her blood pooled into his waiting mouth. She started to scream and struggle against him and then, suddenly, it wasn’t Nancy at all beneath him. He was back in the junkyard pressing Billy against the rusted car. Only this time Billy wasn’t pushing Steve away. Steve held his head to the side using his thick, blonde hair. Billy’s hands were gripping Steve’s hips hauling the other boys closer. Steve bit down harder at Billy’s neck and Billy moaned, the deep rumbling sound sending vibrations from Billy’s neck through Steve’s teeth. Steve could feel every inch of Hargrove’s body pressing against his own. _

* * *

 

Billy looked up at the hulking form of the bus. It was noon, the sun was at its highest point. Hardly any shadows for Steve to hide in if the fight got outside, it was now or never. Billy looked behind himself at the keys in the ignition of the unlocked Camaro, ready for a quick egress. He thought about getting back in and driving away. Just keep going until Hawkins was nothing but a tiny speck on the horizon. Then he thought about Max. Billy sighed and grabbed the broken chair leg with a firm grip walking toward the bus.

He hadn’t got a good look at the bus last time, he’d been a little distracted. He studied the metal covered windows and the old riveted body looking for a good place to try and put a hole, let some sunlight in. As he circled the bus he realized he couldn’t hear Harrington inside. A surge of hope that the creep wasn’t even here went through him but then he thought about something else. In the movies vampires always slept during the day. Maybe they’d gotten that right. Maybe he could try and sneak inside and take Harrington out without him even noticing. 

It sounded like a better plan than trying to punch a hole in metal anyway. Billy held his stake in front of himself ready to throw it like a spear if it came to that. He winced as the bus creaked under his first footstep. He stood still, listening. He could just hear soft breathing from a little ways off. Did it need to breath or was that just from habit? 

Billy cautiously continued forward. He could see Steve. He was laying on his side at the back of the bus. His chest was rising and falling in a steady, slow rhythm. Billy’s heart sped up. He could feel the quick thumping in his fingers as they gripped the stake. There in the middle of the bus was a shaft of light pouring in. Billy reached into the waistband of his pants and pulled out Susan’s mirror. He inched forward, sweat beading on his forehead.

Almost there. Billy shuffled his feet forward, worried that if he took a step the old metal would creak with the strain and wake the killer at the back. Just a bit further. Billy finally reached the light. He tried to keep his hands from shaking too much as he placed the reflective surface in the beam of light. The circle of reflected light danced erratically on the bus walls. Billy steadied his hand with his opposite arm. The light moved smoothly and Billy angled the mirror lower. Billy looked down at the form lying on the back of the bus. Steve’s hair was limp, lacking it’s usual volume. Strands of it had fallen forward into his face. His face was scrunching up and relaxing in some indiscernible pattern. He almost looked peaceful. It was hard to believe that thing had tried to kill him. Just looking at it you could never tell how dangerous it was.

Billy directed the light onto Steve’s sleeping face. Steve screamed in pain. He shot up, instantly awake and held his hands tight over his burned skin, covering his eyes. Bill seized the opportunity jumping forward and swinging the blunt end of the chair leg in a wide arch and catching Steve in the temple. Steve’s body rocked with force his head striking the sharp metal of a wall then slumping down to the floor. His body made a sickeningly loud thump when it hit the ground. The metal had scraped his forehead, had broken the skin and a sluggish black ooze seeped out of the wound. Just more proof in Billy’s mind that the thing before him wasn’t human. Billy walked toward the body on the ground.

He stood over Steve’s prone form holding the improvised stake above the other boy’s heart. This is it, he can end it. It had to be his, no, it’s fault. Everything he felt when he looked at Steve must be some vampire trick. The way his eyes were drawn to the charismatic former king. The way he wanted to touch him, wanted to feel every inch of him. The way his eyes strayed in the locker room shower. It wasn’t Billy, couldn’t be. He wasn’t a fag. He could stop it right here, all he had to do was kill a leech and he’d be free.


	11. Chapter 11

Dustin rushed into the classroom throwing the door open and causing the entire class to watch his entrance.

“Uh, sorry, Mr. Clark.” Dustin took his seat next to Mike. 

“What happened? Why were you late?” Mike waited until the normal whispering and muttering in class resumed before leaning over to talk to his friend.

“Steve didn’t pick me up. I had to ride my bike.” 

“I told you he was an asshole. Probably just skipped today without telling you.”

“No he’s not!”

The entire class turned to look at Dustin again. Mr. Clark stopped writing on the board and turned to look at his pupil.

“Sorry, Mr. Clark.” Mike rolled his eyes at his friend. 

“I think something’s wrong. Steve’s my friend he would’ve told me if he couldn’t pick me up.”

* * *

 

Nancy waited outside the High School. She leaned against the cold brick of the building, her eyes scanning the parking lot. Jonathan had already gone inside. On mondays he liked to get to the building early to develop whatever pictures he taken over the weekend. The warning bell sounded and Nancy frowned. She hadn’t seen or heard from Steve all weekend. They really didn’t spend too much time together now-a-days but they usually talked at least once over the weekend. Well, usually it was Nancy calling him. She’d taken Jonathan’s advice about giving him space and hadn’t called this weekend. Now she wishes she had. It wasn’t unusual for Steve to skip but after the strange way he’d been acting last week Nancy couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. There was an itching concern that settled uncomfortably into her skin. 

The loud screeching of tires grabbed Nancy’s attentions leading it to the far end of the parking lot, the side closest to the middle school. Of course it was Hargrove’s Camaro. She watched little Max get out of the car and skateboard the last dozen of so feet to the middle school entrance. Billy’s car screamed across the asphalt making a u-turn, burning rubber tracks on the pavement as he turned and left the lot. Nancy rolled her eyes. What did she care if that asshole skipped class.

It was almost time for the final bell before class and there was still no sight of Steve’s car. Nancy worried her lip between her teeth. She knew it was probably nothing and she knew that’s exactly what Jonathan would tell her but still she went to seek him out in the darkroom. She opened the door slowly trying not to startle Jonathan or damage the light sensitive film he was working on. Jonathan looked up from his work as she entered, surprised to find her here. Normally she avoided the dark room, the unnatural, eerie light felt a little too close to the brooding otherworldly atmosphere of the Upside-down. A shiver ran down her spine as the door to the well-lit hallway closed with a click.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Steve’s skipping today.” Jonathan turned away from his girlfriend to go back to his work. He had no idea what Nancy wanted him to say. Steve skipped class all the time. In truth his blase attitude to education always bothered Jonathan. It felt like the wealthy student was flaunting the fact he didn’t need to rely on a his scholastic acumen to escape this town. Jonathan tried hard not to let it bother him. He couldn’t say Steve and him were friends, especially not after some of the things he’d said but they did have a bond. Jonathan was trying to forgive the other man. Steve had apologized, and he’d helped look after the kids after the Upside-down reared it’s fanged and faceless head once more. Besides Jonathan hated the face Nancy wore whenever she thought Jonathan and Steve were at odds.

“Yeah?”

“Jonathan, I think something’s wrong.”

“Nancy, Steve skips class all the time.” Nancy walked over to her boyfriend laying her hand on his arm and drawing his undivided attention.

“Jonathan, something is seriously wrong. We need to go find him.” Jonathan looked at her face, staring at the concern in her eyes.

“Okay.”

Just as Jonathan agreed the final bell rang out shrilly through the halls. They stayed ducked in the secluded dark room until the squeaks of rubber soles running across linoleum quieted and the final locker doors slammed shut with a clang. Then they snuck out of the building taking Jonathan’s car to search.

Jonathan and Nancy sat parked in Jonathan’s car in the parking lot of what used to be Benny’s Burgers. They’d driven all over town. Starting at Steve’s house, the most likely location for the teen to be hiding out, and ending at Hawkin’s lab. Even in broad daylight the place gave Jonathan the creeps. He had to admit he was starting to get worried. They hadn’t seen Steve’s car anywhere.

“Where else could he be? Should we go back to the lab and break in?” Jonathan proposed.

“No, he wouldn’t just leave his car somewhere. If we find his car we find him.”

“Should we call Hopper? We could use a hand.”

“Maybe. There’s one more place I think we should check. You remember when Steve told us about fighting the Demodogs? He said the kids lured them to the junkyard and used the bus as a shelter. If this is Upside-down related and he thought he might need to fight he’d go there.”

“Alright we’ll check there. But if he’s not there we’re going to Hopper.” Nancy nodded her agreement and Jonathan started the car back up and began to drive to the Junkyard. “Nancy, if the gate didn't close and something from the Upside-down is in town, why didn't Steve tell us?”

Nancy looked out the window at the dark bark of trees flying past. The sun glared down at them  from the apex of its arc. She’d been thinking that same question all day. 

It wasn’t long before the couple made their way into the Junkyard heading for the amateurly fortified bus. They both saw the Camaro parked like a ‘beware of dog’ sign in front of their destination. The owner of said Camaro wasn’t far off. Billy was leaning against the side of the bus smoke curling off the end of his cigarette into the ether. Jonathan’s hands tightened on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched. He directed Nancy’s attention to the familiar sight of Steve’s parked Beemer. This might not be Upside-down related after all but that didn't mean Steve wasn’t in a lot of danger. Everyone had seen his face after Billy had gotten to it. It made Jonathan and Steve’s fight look like a pillow fight.

“Did you bring the gun?” Nancy asked, Mike had told her many times about how Billy had gone crazy smashing Steve’s face into a pulp like he was possessed. Her voice was grave, a million different gruesome scenarios began to race through her mind.

“Glove compartment, it's loaded.” At Jonathan’s direction she took out the pistol, making sure the safety was on, and put it in her pocket. 

Jonathan parked his car perpendicular to Billy’s Camaro blocking the other boy in so he couldn’t run. Jonathan turned off the ignition and looked at his girlfriend nodding to her. She nodded back and they both got out of the car. Nancy kept her hand in her pocket, her hand gripping the gun loosely ready to draw.

They walked cautiously toward the bus. Jonathan felt the strange calm of an inevitable fight seep into his bones.

“Hey, princess.” Billy said as the two teens walked towards him. Nancy could tell he was trying to act nonchalant but she could see his hands shaking as he held his cigarette.

“Where’s Steve?” Nancy and Jonathan stopped short of Billy eyeing him wearily and making sure there was a healthy distance between them.

“Haven’t seen him.” Nancy studied the boy before her. He looked haggard. His hair was tangled and oily, he wore a bandage on his neck. He had bags under his eyes, the shirt he wore was stained with grease and riddled with holes. He looked like a mess. Nancy couldn’t say she’d spent a lot of time thinking about Hargrove but even she had noticed how much attention he normally put into his appearance. Something must’ve happened for him to look so rough. The observation only served to put her more on edge.

“Don’t lie to me, Hargrove. That’s his car parked over there. Tell me what’s going on!” Nancy shouted. At the loud noise something stirred inside the bus. Everyone looked at the bus as it creaked and rustling could be heard inside. Nancy glared at Billy. “What did you do?”

Nancy turned to run into the bus to get to Steve. She kept thinking about what she’d find inside that bus. There had been no one present to knock Billy out this time.

“Stop! Don’t!” Billy rushed forward his face as white as a sheet. He grabbed Nancy’s arm trying to pull her back. Jonathan ripped Billy’s hand off Nancy’s arm. Nancy whirled around drawing the gun from her pocket, flicked off the safety and aimed in one smooth, practised motion. Billy backed off swallowing hard and raising his hands into the air. “Don’t go on that bus.”

Nancy paused. Billy’s voice sounded different. It wasn’t the confident, boisterous boom she’d heard echoing down the halls of Hawkin’s High. Now it shook, not with uncertainty or lack of conviction, but with fear. 

“Something’s wrong with Harrington.” Billy slowly reached to the bandage on his neck pulling at the adhesive and revealing his wound. “He did this to me.”

Nancy looked at Jonathan. Neither of them knew what to make of this supposed information. It’s not like it came from a reliable source. It couldn’t be true. They’d seen some unbelievable things but this just seem fake. Nancy decided she couldn’t take Billy’s word for it. She had to see for herself what was going on.

“I’m going to check on Steve. You keep an eye on Billy.” Nancy flicked the safety back on and re-holstered the gun in her pocket before mounting the stairs into the bus.

A shaft of light shined down through the roof illuminating the interior. Nancy could just make out Steve’s shoes peeking out from behind a ratty bus seat.

“Steve?” Nancy’s voice was tentative. What if Steve was possessed like Will had been. She thought of the anger and strength Will had summoned as the monster inside of him fought for its life. She kept her hand on the gun.

“Ugh,” Steve moaned loudly his body twisting around, rolling on the ground in apparent agony.

“Steve?” Nancy asked again moving forward with small steps.

“Nancy?” Steve’s voice was raw like he’d been smoking a pack a day for the last five years. 

“Are you ok?” Nancy wanted to run to him, wanted to sweep him into her arms, she’d been so worried but she knew better than to take things at face value. Steve drew his feet up behind the seat cushion with the rest of his body. Nancy continued to walk forward.

“Stop! Nancy, you need to stay back.” Nancy stopped midstep. She was in the middle of the shaft of blinding light.

“Is it the mind-flayer, like with Will? Is this the Upside-down, Steve?”

“No...yes. God, I don’t know. I-I attacked Hargrove. I can’t stop it.” Steve’s voice broke around a sob. 

“It’s okay, Steve. We’re going to fix this, we’re going to help you.” 


	12. Chapter 12

_Billy's legs straddle Steve's torso. The sharp wooden point of the stake is held steady over Steve's sternum, pressed flush with the fabric of his shirt, splinters catch the threads as his chest moves with every inhale and exhale. Billy stares down at the monster beneath him. The scene is unsettlingly familiar. Billy remembers the way Steve's bones had cracked beneath his fists, the sharp metallic scent of blood permeating the room. He remembers Steve passing out and the kids shouting for him to stop, but he couldn't. Was what he did any better than what Steve had done?_

_Eyelashes flutter with sudden consciousness. Billy tenses drawing the sharp stick upwards, poised and ready. Steve groans in pain. He blinks his eyes several times as if they’re unfocused._

_“Billy?” It's the first thing Steve has said to him since the senior attacked him in the junkyard. Hell it was probably the first thing Steve said to him since Billy smashed his face in. Billy dropped the piece of wood next to him, it clattered hollowly against the floor. His dad was right, he was weak. Steve groaned again clutching the cut on his forehead and the mild burns on his cheek. Billy didn't want to be around when he got his shit together. He couldn't kill Harrington but that didn't mean he was willing to sacrifice himself for the other boy. Billy hurriedly got up and retreated off the bus into the daylight to try and come up with a better plan than leaving Steve to starve on a decaying junkyard bus._

* * *

Nancy stepped off the bus going to Jonathan. Billy was back to leaning against it’s side, cigarette smouldering between his lips. Jonathan looked once over at Billy to make sure he wasn't going to bolt or attack them before he walked over to Nancy.

“Is it the Mind-flayer?” Jonathan whispered, conscious of the teen only a few feet away.

“I'm not sure. It doesn't seem the same as what happened to Will.”

“We need to get Hopper.”

“We can't just leave him here.”

“Then we take him with us.”

“Jonathan, he attacked Hargrove. You didn't see him in there. He said he can't stop it. He wouldn't let me get close to him.”

“You think he'd attack us?”

“I don't think he can help it. Remember what Will did when we tried to burn the Mind-flayer out?” Jonathan shuddered as the memory flooded back to him.

“You don't think he can wait until we get the Chief? If that's what we're dealing with I'd rather have backup.”

“He already seemed pretty bad. It might just get worse the longer we wait.”

Billy rolled his eyes from where he was leaning. He was getting awfully sick of being left out of the loop. His hands were almost steady as he gripped the cigarette butt from his mouth and flicked it into the grass.

“Hey, Lovebirds, care to share with the rest of the class?” Billy jeered.

“We can't leave him here. We need to move him somewhere he can't hurt anyone and where we can watch over him.”

“He can't go in the sun.”

“What?” Jonathan looked skeptical. Billy shrugged. Jonathan turned back to Nancy.

“It's definitely not the same as Will.” He whispered. Nancy nodded.

“Ok, We need to back a car up to the bus’ door. Jonathan, do you have any blankets or a tarp or anything like that in your car? If we wrap Steve up we might be able to get him in the trunk without the sun hitting him.”

“Yeah I think I have a few.”

“What then, princess? We just leave him locked in the trunk until he dies or tries to kill us?” Nancy glared at the blonde.

“There's a cabin we can take him to. It's secluded, but not too far from here.” Jonathan looked at Nancy questioningly. They both knew the cabin had been empty for the last month. Once the adoption papers came through Jane and Hopper had moved to a modest, older home in town.

“Should we ask Billy to get Hopper?” Jonathan asked Nancy, once again speaking too quietly for the man in question to hear.

“No, I don't think we can trust him to be alone. We can't know what he'll do. I think Billy should drive Steve and I'll go with him. You go get Hopper.”

“Nancy, I don't want to leave you alone with him.”

“I can take care of myself, Jonathan.” Nancy put her hand in her pocket her fingers brushing the cool metal of the gun.

“Didn't your parents teach you better manners?” Billy said through gritted teeth. He'd been dealing with this longer than them, he wasn't getting shut out. He didn't think he'd be able to sleep without knowing what was going on with Harrington. “It’s not nice to exclude others.”

“Billy, we need to take Steve to the cabin in the Camaro. I'll come with you and show you where to go. Jonathan's going to get more help.” Her tone didn't broker argument, although she still expected it. It was a surprise, then, when Billy answered.

“He better not fuck up my car again.” Billy walked over to the Camaro getting inside and making the engine purr.  “Hey freak! I can't turn it around with you blocking me in!”

Both Nancy and Jonathan stood in stunned silence staring after the former Californian. Nancy snapped out of shock first and ushered Jonathan to his car to get the blankets and move so Hargrove could turn. Then Nancy got back on the bus.

“Steve?” she kept a healthy distance from the back of the bus where Steve was sitting.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you can walk on your own? We're going to back Billy's Camaro up to the bus. Do you think you can make it into his trunk?”

“You want me to get into Billy's trunk? Have you seen him drive?!” Nancy rolled her eyes.

“we’re just going to Hopper's cabin. It's not too far. I'll be there too. I'll make sure he doesn't drive into a tree or something.”

“Not helping, Nance.” Nancy could hear Steve taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah, okay. I can walk on my own. What about the sun?”

“Jonathan's got some blankets in his car. Just wrap yourself up as best you can, you don't have to make it very far.”

Jonathan brought a ratty woollen blanket over handing it to Nancy who threw it to Steve then got off the bus. Billy backed the Camaro as close as he could to the Bus’ doorway. Nancy stood behind the car watching the space between the two vehicles disappear and gesturing for Billy to keep moving back until the two pieces of metal were nearly touching. Jonathan walked over to Nancy one last time. He looked over his shoulder at the man in the Camaro worriedly.

“I'll meet you at the cabin.” Jonathan pulled Nancy to him kissing her chastely before going back to his car and driving away.

Billy popped his trunk and stayed sitting in the driver’s seat. Nancy stood at the threshold looking on. It killed her that she couldn’t do more to help. Steve held the blanket over his head like a shawl blocking the sun’s rays. Despite the shadow over his face Nancy could still make out his gaunt appearance. He looked bad. His face was pale and his hair was knotted and flat. His shirt and shoes had ruddy brown spots Nancy could only think had come from Hargrove and there was a smear of black fluid on his face. Steve didn’t look at her as he ducked into the shade of the Camaro’s trunk. His eyes were fixed firmly on the ground in shame. Once he was safely inside Nancy shut the lid and joined Billy in the front seat.

Billy looked over at her revving the engine, smiled and screeched away from the bus while cackling.

“Hargrove!” Steve shouted from the trunk as Billy sped away knocking the other boy around in the cramped confines. Billy could only hear a muffled exclamation.

“Just lie back and enjoy the ride, Harrington!” Billy yelled back. Nancy sighed.


	13. Chapter 13

Billy had slowed down considerably once they actually got on the road. In fact it was the slowest she’d ever seen him drive, which was still faster than any sane person would go. When Nancy looked over at him he just shrugged muttering ‘I don’t want to clean puke out of the trunk’ before going back to ignoring her.

“When did Steve attack you? Why’d you come to the junkyard?” Nancy turned the dial on the dashboard to dull the blaring tones of the Rolling Stones’ _Sympathy for the Devil._ She figured she was stuck in the car with Hargrove for a while, she might as well try and get more information about what had happened.

“Oh no, Honor roll, that's not how this is going to work. You don't seem nearly as freaked out by this as you should be. Why did you have a gun? How come you and Mr. Right had a plan already all cooked up and ready to serve? Has this happened to Harrington before?”

“What? No!” Billy looked at Nancy as if she’d just said the sky was green.

“Then tell me what's going on!” His knuckles clenched the leather of the steering wheel tighter.

Nancy thought about it. She thought about the lab and the monsters, the NDA she signed, and Murray telling them to water down the truth. But she was tired of covering for the lab and keeping the real cause of Barb's death a secret, so she didn't. She told Billy everything. Well, everything that didn't involve Jane. She wasn't her secret to share. He was uncharacteristically quiet during the whole story. Finally, Nancy finished with Hopper closing the gate just as they pulled up to his cabin. He shut off the roaring engine, killing the radio and letting silence creep in. Nancy waited for Billy to say something, tell her it was bullshit or that she was crazy. He just sat there staring at the woods, silent.

“Hey, can you let me out?” There was a muffled knocking coming from the rear of the car. Billy sighed and scrubbed his face with his rough hands. He resolutely refused to meet Nancy’s eyes as he popped the trunk and got out of the car.

“Alright, Harrington, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” He lifted the lid of the trunk carefully giving the other boy time to cover himself from the sun.

Steve stumbled inside wrapped in the blanket and collapsed on the couch burying his head in the cushions exhausted. Nancy went over to a closet grabbing the rope they'd used to secure Will.

“Here, tie Steve up in one of the rooms. I'm going to try and send Hopper a message over the radio in case he's not at the Station when Jonathan gets there.”

“He doesn't have a phone out here?”

“Like I said, it's secluded.”

Billy watched Nancy head over to the large radio against the wall. She turned a dial on the black box before clicking down a button in what seemed like a random pattern. Billy walked over to where Steve had collapsed. He kicked at the leg of the sofa.

“Alright, Nosferatu, up and at 'em.”

“Ugh, don't call me that.” Steve grumbled. Billy's bravado had returned now that he had an audience but Steve noticed how he was acting cautious. It felt like he still had one foot out the door with the way he kept looking over at it. Billy was scared of him. It may be with good reason, but it was still a strange thought. Before now Steve wouldn't have thought he was capable of feeling fear.

Steve shuffled to one of the bedrooms. He supposed it was Hopper's, it was larger than the other. The small window in the corner was already boarded over to discourage curious hikers from investigating when Jane had lived here. It had the added benefit of blocking most of the sun making it a safe spot to keep Steve, for now.

“So, chair or, uh, bed?”

“What?”

Billy lifted the coiled ropes in his hands. “I need to tie you up for when you try to kill us later.”

“Oh” Steve looked down at the floor.

“What's it going to be?”

“Chair.” Steve pulled out the reasonably comfortable looking wooden chair that sat next to the desk in the corner. He took a seat trying to find the most comfortable spot, it was going to be a while before he could get up again. Billy moved around behind him securing Steve's hands first.

“So...demon dogs, huh?”

“Demo-dogs.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Nancy told you?”

“She told me a very entertaining story.”

“Story? You were all ready to believe in vampires but other dimensions is just a bridge too far?”

“Who said anything about vampires? I just thought you had rabies.” Steve laughed hard, just on the other side of hysterical. It felt like some of the tension he'd been holding had finally dissipated.

“Right, 'cause everyone knows the best way to fend off rabies is with a Cross.” Billy let out his own chuckle at that. He finished tying Steve up, wrapping a few strands around his chest before finally tying his ankles to the chair's legs. He stepped back to assess his work and Steve moved around testing the knots. He nodded his approval.

Billy sat on the bed in the corner taking out his almost empty pack of cigarettes and shaking one out. He lit it taking a healthy drag and holding the comforting smoke in for a few, long seconds before tipping his head back and slowly letting it pour from his open mouth. He looked over at Steve who was staring at him intently. Billy shook the flimsy box in Steve’s direction raising an eyebrow. Steve shook his head and turned to look out into the living room.

The sharp smell of smoke hung in the stale cabin air. Underneath it Steve could still make out Billy's cologne. He hated how he could feel a pull towards the other man. Hated how, even if he closed his eyes, he could still feel his presence. All the time, in the back of his mind there was this want, this need to go over to him. He’d felt a similar pull toward Nancy when she’d walked over to him on the bus but it wasn’t as strong. It must be because he’d tasted Hargrove, drank him like hot chocolate. Steve wanted to feel revulsion at the thought but he was starting to feel the dull burn of thirst at the back of his throat again.

It wasn't too much longer before Nancy joined the boys.

“No response from Hopper. I just hope that means he's at the Police Station when Jonathan gets there.”

No sooner had she spoken then Steve groaned and tried to double over. The ropes kept him from completely collapsing in on himself but it was clear he was in pain.

“Steve...do you need blood?” Nancy took a hesitant step toward her ex.

“No!” It was more of a grunt of agony than a word.

“Steve....”

“Nancy, you can’t. What if…” Steve groaned in pain. “...what if it can spread, like a disease.”

Billy was fidgeting as he sat. He could feel the phantom pain of Steve’s bite. Like hell he was going to offer himself up to a monster.

“We don't really have a choice, do we? What if I just make a cut and bleed into a cup or something?” Steve looked at his former girlfriend a confusing mix of horror and stark want contorted his face. He screamed out again, straining against his bounds.

“No! Nancy, please don’t. I-I can’t do that to you. I’d never be able to forgive myself.” Steve was panting heavily, the fabric of his shirt was starting to darken with sweat. “Besides, it’s really not that bad right now.”

Billy rolled his eyes. Nancy was wringing her hands together with worry.

“Please, Nance. It’ll pass, I promise.” Nancy nodded while biting her bottom lip a little too hard.

“C’mon, Billy. Let me take a look at your neck. After everything that happened I decided to learn a little first aid, I’m not half bad at it either.” Billy side-eyed Steve. There was still sharp tension in his shoulders pulling like an overstrained rubberband, ready to snap. Billy knew the only thing keeping Steve from lunging at them was the rope. A cold shiver ran down his spine, he turned to Nancy.

“Yeah, okay.” The response was oddly subdued, it didn’t seem to fit with Steve’s mental picture of his classmate. Steve sighed in relief. It would be easier to fight the urges if both of them weren’t _right there_. Steve suspected Nancy had intuited that.

“Wait, Nancy.” She stopped and turned back to him. “Please don’t tell the kids. I don’t want them to know.” She nodded at him, he knew she understood. He thought she was the only one who ever really understood him.

The unlikely pair left the room, closing the door firmly behind them. A shout erupted from behind the pinewood barrier and Nancy visibly winced with sympathetic pain. Billy’s hands shook but he stuffed them in his pockets before the prodigy could notice. Silently Billy followed Nancy to a small, simple bathroom. She seemed to know her way around here pretty well. Billy supposed she had a crash course with the Byers. He took a seat on the closed toilet and pulled the bandage loose. He tried to ignore Nancy’s grimace.

“What? I though chicks like a few scars.” Nancy just gave him a look, calling him a idiot without opening her mouth. Billy scraped out a laugh.

“You never told me what happened, with you and Steve in the junkyard.” It wasn’t a question, it was a reminder of the unspoken agreement they had. She’d tell him about all the fucked up shit that happened in this town from hell and he’d fill her on the small chapter she’d missed. Billy cut his eyes away from her face staring instead at the dirty grout between the floor tiles.

“Not much to tell. I went to the junkyard to blow off some steam and Harrington jumped my bones. Always knew that faggot had it bad for me.” Billy pulled half of his mouth up in a mockery of a smile. It was sharp though, all teeth. A shark’s smile. Nancy’s mouth tightened but she was determined not to take the bait. However, she may have used a little more disinfectant, a little more aggressively, than was strictly necessary. Billy hissed in a breath.

“Why’d you go back there today? What were you going to do?” Billy finally looked at her. His mouth was open. What could he say? He was going to kill her ex-boyfriend. She’d just offered to cut her arm open to _feed_ him, and Billy’s reaction had been to stab him through the heart. He sucked in a breath. She’d just keep asking him, he had to tell her.

Right before he could dig his grave a little deeper the front door creaked open.

“Steve, Nancy!” Billy huffed out an amused breath at the intrusion. It was a gruff, older male’s voice. Billy hadn’t really met the Chief of police before, unless you counted a firm dressing down for beating Steve’s pretty face in, which he didn’t. In Billy’s opinion his scolding needed some work, he could learn a thing or two from Neil.

* * *

Mike heard the crackle of the radio in his backpack. He’d turn the volume down while he was in class but there was no way he was turning it off. They had a system. While they were at school He’d keep his radio set to intercept Hopper’s and he’d tell the rest of the Party. If Hopper tried to contact El they were going to hear it. They weren’t going to be left out of the loop, not again. When the crackling static resolved itself into a steady stream of low beeps Mike began to write it out on his notebook. He hadn’t memorized morse code yet so he just copied down the pattern of dots and dashes to decipher later. It wasn’t long before he noticed the message had looped. Whoever was sending it wanted to make sure their recipient got the whole thing. A nervous excitement crept outwards from his gut. It was happening again. He raised his hand and asked for a bathroom pass.

_Steve infected. Come to cabin_


	14. Chapter 14

“Are you sure it says infected?” Dustin’s voice was so high it was nearly screeching.

“Yes, I’m sure. The message looped a few times. I made sure I copied it right.”

“But are you sure you’re sure?”

“Yes!” Mike shouted exasperated.

The boys were huddled around Mike's notebook outside the school during recess, Dustin having insisted he double check Mike's translation of Morse code.

“Infected with what? How? We have to get to the cabin.”

“Okay, Dustin, calm down.” Lucas tried his hand at reining Dustin in.

“Calm down! A party member is _infected_! It has to be the Upside-down.”

“Maybe he just got the flu?”

“Then why didn't they take him to a Hospital, Lucas?”

“Okay, fine. It probably is the Upside-down.”

“We have to go there now!”

“But it's Steve.” Lucas's nose scrunched up like the name left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Did you forget how he helped us in the tunnels? We would have died, guys!”

“He didn’t even want to go!”

“But he did!  When the demodogs were coming he lifted us out first.” Lucas looked at the ground scuffing the toe of his shoe against the grass. “Don’t you at least want to find out what’s going on? If it’s Upside-down related we should know.”

“The cabin’s not very far.” Will piped up. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he might be responsible for whatever was happening to the teen. After the Mind-flayer left him it had to go somewhere, what if it went into Steve?

“Okay, let’s go get our bikes. If I end up failing my math test you’re going to have to explain why to my mom, Dustin.”

* * *

“Well, it seems the dream team really has things handled. Guess I'll be on my way.” Billy emerged from the bathroom brushing off Nancy's hands still trying to dress his wound. Hopper stood in the doorway, Jonathan just behind him.

“Sorry, kid, I can't let you go.”

“You going to stop me, _officer.”_  

“If I have to.”

“Billy, wait. Think about what Steve said. This could be infectious, it could spread.”

“She's right.” Jonathan chimed in.

“We can't let you go. You could end up hurting yourself, or others.” Hopper's voice was calm like he was trying to soothe a skittish Pitbull.

Billy looked at the gruff, overweight cop blocking his exit. He eyed the revolver at his hip and he thought about the gun Nancy had pulled on him at the bus. God, what was it with hicks and their guns? His shoulders curled down in defeat, he was trapped. He tried not to think about what his dad was going to do to him if he didn’t pick up Max. Honestly, that was the least of his worries. Everyone in the room seemed to relax when they sensed he wasn’t going to make a run for it. Hopper and Jonathan came into the cabin fully, closing and thoroughly locking the door.

“Where’s Steve?”

“He’s in your bedroom, tied to a chair. Did Jonathan fill you in?” Hopper nodded. The group made their way over to the bedroom in question. Hopper was leading the pack but he was hanging on Nancy’s every word, it was clear he respected her opinion. Jonathan hung back awkwardly watching Billy until he gave in and reluctantly followed the others into the bedroom.

“Hey, kid. How’re you feeling?” Hopper sat down on the edge of the bed, close but still wary of the danger Steve posed.

“I’ve been better.” Steve gave a pained smile. He hated how many people were seeing him like this. He’d tried so long to perfect the facade people saw when they looked at him. This was so much worse than a crack in the plaster mask he used to wear at school. He could feel the dried...blood on his forehead, it pulled at his skin making it itch. At least that’s what it should’ve been but whatever was flowing through his veins now wasn’t red like it should be. It scared him. He’d always thought his future was planned out, a done deal. Every turn in the road of his life mapped by his father. There was a comfort in the certainty. He knew if he followed his father’s plan he’d never have to make any difficult choices, he’d never want for anything. But it was suffocating too, claustrophobic and confining. He’d always longed to stray from his father’s path. Well, at least dying was pretty far from what his father wanted.

“When did this start happening to you? Did something attack you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. It just happened. I guess it started a few days ago. The sun started hurting my eyes and food tasted disgusting like it was rotten or something.”

“Did you try to bite anyone else?” At the Chief’s question, Steve’s eyes darted to Nancy standing in the doorway. He shifted uncomfortably under the rough grip of the ropes.

“I went to a party Friday. There was a girl.” Steve’s gaze flicked to Nancy’s quickly. “I didn’t understand it at the time. We kissed a-and I wanted to but I didn’t.”

Billy tried to suppress his surprise. He looked around the room but no one was looking at him. Nancy tried to sneak out of the small room but Steve saw her leave. In a way, he was hurt. It wasn’t fair for her to resent him for trying to move on.

“Good, good.” Hopper took off his hat and brushed his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure this wasn’t something from the Upside-down? I need to know if the Gate’s open again”

“No, I'm not sure! I have no idea what’s happening to me. The last thing I remember from the Upside-down was torching those tunnels, that’s it.”

Nancy walked back into the room holding a small damp towel. She walked over to Steve and began to clean off his face. She gently brushed away the flaking black substance from his cut but some of it wouldn’t wipe off. She tried to scrub it off a little harder, still gentle enough not to irritate Steve’s skin, but it didn’t budge. Finally, she ran her fingers across the jagged black line. It was smooth, it didn’t feel like something that had dried and stuck, it felt like skin. She looked to Hopper. 

“Nancy, what’s wrong?” Steve was glad he’d managed to keep his voice steady.

“Steve…”

“Nothing, kid. Look, I’ve still got some spare clothes up here, you should change out of those.” He nodded to Steve’s blood-splattered shirt and pants. “Are you going to be okay on your own for a bit? I need to call Dr. Owens.”

“You want to bring in the lab?” Steve’s voice rose an octave.

“Not the lab, kid, Just Owens. He owes me and he might be able to help.”


	15. Chapter 15

Nancy and Jonathan had followed Hopper to the front door to see him off. Billy chose to stay behind in the bedroom. Steve looked over at him unable to take the silence any longer.

“Sorry, uh, sorry about...biting you.”

“Why me? You said you almost bit the chick earlier, why not her?” Steve scoffed.

“You were there, when I lost control.”  Billy’s not sure what he wanted in response or how exactly that makes him feel but it's suspiciously like disappointment.

“Why did you stop?”

“What? I didn't want to hurt you.”

“You had every right to after what I did.”

“Despite appearances, I am trying not to be an asshole.” Steve chuckled darkly.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry for beating the shit out of you, happy?”

Steve smiles “anyone ever tell you, you're a dick?”

Billy cracked one of his broken smiles. “All the time, pretty boy.”

They sat in silence again. They could hear the sounds of Hopper’s car starting up and driving away, kicking up dirt on the road. Neither Nancy or Jonathan joined the boys in the room. Steve suspected they were catching up with each other, although he didn’t see how there was much to catch up on. Maybe they were just commiserating together, taking comfort in each other. Steve tipped his head back uncomfortably against the back of the chair. He let out a sigh before looking back at Billy.

“Billy, I need to ask you something. I know after what I did you don’t owe me anything, but I think you’re the only one who can do it.”

“You’re right, I don’t owe you shit.”

“Just,” Steve heaved a heavy sigh. “Just, listen okay?”

Billy cocked an eyebrow and waited impatiently for him to continue.

“If...when I lose control again. Don’t let me hurt anyone else, okay?” Steve was staring into his eyes. There was a resignation there, a sadness, a dawning inevitability.

Billy stood up and stripped out of his tattered shirt. There were deep, black bruises defacing his ribs.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Steve sat up straighter, pushing his back as far against the chair as he could.

“You’re a messy eater, I’m not letting you fuck up another shirt.”

“What?”

Billy walked over to Steve. He kept his steps purposefully even. He couldn't believe he was willingly doing this. It felt different this time though. Steve wasn't silent and menacing. He didn't seem to want to do this any more than Billy. The blonde also felt he had at least some control this time, what with Steve being thoroughly strapped to a chair.

“You lost control because you were hungry, right? So you won’t lose control if you don’t get hungry.”

“Billy…”

“Look, I don’t like this anymore than you do but you need this and if it is an infection...well, I’ve already got it.”

Billy knelt next to the chair offering up his right arm to Steve. Steve groaned with want and Billy tried to ignore the way the sound sent sparks of desire shooting along his spine.

“Just, not too deep okay?”

“Are you sure? If you're not you need to leave right now.”

“Do it already.”

Steve gave in. He emitted a needy sound, almost like a growl as he bent to meet Billy's arm. It felt so good to stop resisting, to just surrender himself to his wants. He wasn't as lost in need as he had been before and that made him feel weirdly self-conscious. He was aware of Billy's tense muscles and held breath. He imagined ripping into Billy's arm, freeing as much blood as possible for him to lap up. As much as the thought sent a flame up from his stomach to lick at the back of his tongue he still had enough control not to act on the fantasy.

Billy wouldn't look at him. His face was turned away his whole body showing his reluctance. Steve still couldn't understand why he was doing this but he wouldn't question it. He bent down to Billy's arm resisting the urge to lick it, somehow that just seemed too weird, too indulgent. He had to make this as painless as possible for Hargrove. Just get it over with. He could feel the teeth in his skull moving, changing. They ached, all of them. He felt them sharpening to needle points. He tried not to dwell on it. He placed the swell of Billy's bicep between his lips, nicking the skin.

Billy's breath hitched when he felt the pinprick of teeth. This was probably the worst idea he'd ever had. Just as quickly as he felt the piercing of teeth they were gone. He couldn't resist looking over at Steve then. The other boy's eyes were closed. He was sucking at the small holes he's made in Billy's skin. Billy could feel his tongue brushing the blood away. It tickled. Every swipe sent a rush of electricity skittering up his arm. He closed his eyes and turned his head away trying to ignore it. He couldn't keep his breath from shuddering in his lungs though.

After a few minutes Steve tilted his head back with a moaning sigh.

“Billy,” his name sounded obscene hissing through Steve's satisfied lips. “Thank you.”

Billy cleared his throat and stood, stepping back from Steve. He covered the still slowly seeping cuts on his arm with his hand.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Are you okay now?”

Steve nodded, head still thrown back. It looked like he was high, his drug of choice flooding through his body in ecstasy. Billy let his eyes trail across his body, just for a second. He shook his head looked away before Steve came down from his hit.

“I'm good, really good.” Billy moved around behind Steve's chair and began to undo his sophisticated, yet sloppy, series of knots releasing Steve. “What're you doing?”

“Just change into some clean clothes. That cop said he had some spares in here. Call me back in when you're done, I'll tie you up again.”

Billy didn't wait for a reply. He threw on his shirt and left Steve there free of ropes but still sitting in the chair looking debauched. He was almost panting. If it weren't for the dried blood on his clothes Billy would think he'd just had the best fuck of his life. Billy closed the door on the sight, not allowing himself to stare any longer.

“Billy! What happened to your arm?” Nancy launched herself off the couch and out of Jonathan's arms.

“It's fine.” Billy was just about to explain when there was a panicked pounding on the front door.

“Steve!” A high pitched child's voice accompanied the frantic slamming of fists against wood.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Homophobic language! And some serious self-hatred.
> 
> Let’s be honest you all knew this was coming. Still, you’ve been warned.

For a moment everyone in the room freezes. The kids weren't supposed to know about this.

“I'll get the door.” Jonathan stands from his spot on the couch, the old, tired cushions holding the imprint of his body. Nancy wavers wanting to continue questioning Billy but also knowing she'll be needed to shepherd the middle schoolers.

Jonathan undoes the locks on the door letting in the flood of preteens. Dustin's first, of course. He races inside the building his eyes catch on Billy and the trickles of blood on his hand. His fevered brain ignores that the older boy's fingers are curled, tourniquet like, over his own arm.

“Where's Steve? What did you do to him?!” Dusting stands before Billy accusation etched into every line on his young face.

“I didn't do shit. Get the fuck out of my way!” Billy's about to shove him aside when curly red hair draws his attention. Sheer, lancing panic shoots up Billy's spine. It almost feels like that time he'd seen the erratic flashing of red and blue reflecting in his rearview mirror, the pleasant burn of pot smoke still stinging his alveoli. Caught out, trapped. What was she doing here? She shouldn't be here. It brought everything too close to home, too close to Neil. His skin still felt pleasantly warm and oversensitive where Steve's lips had brushed it.

“Billy?” Max's voice rose in question.

“I said get out of my way!” Billy lashed out at the kid in front of him pushing Dustin violently aside. He nearly sprinted to the bathroom slamming the door and locking it for good measure. He was hyperventilating as he collapsed onto the cold floor, his back pressed to the wooden door behind him. His shaking hands cradled his head as the walls closed in around him.

“Billy?” The voice was more timid this time, lilting.

His throat closes up, he can't swallow, he can't _breath._ He’s rubbing his hands through his hair and the strands are sticking together awkwardly. He looks down at his hands in confusion. Crimson paints his palm flowing into the natural ridges of his skin, coating it vibrantly. What was wrong with him? Why would he voluntarily put himself in danger for anyone else?

He can’t get the image of Steve lounging in the chair, loose limbed and sated, out of his head. He knows now that he never will. It’s burned into his neurons as sure as the alphabet or how to assuage his father’s ire, _respect and responsibility._ His eyes burned with unshed tears. He rubs at his eyelids willing them to stop. Instead they gathered, brimming his eyes until they overflowed, rivulets streaming down his cheeks.

* * *

 “What is _Billy_ doing here?” Mike asks from his place in the doorway.

“There’s kind of a lot going on.” Jonathan tries. Steve opens his door at the commotion outside judging himself in possession of his faculties, at least enough not to attack anyone. He feels a tight constriction in his chest at the scene before him. They’re here, all of them. Dustin is rubbing his head where it had collided with the couch, Max is fidgeting outside the bathroom door, Mike is facing his sister looking stern, Will sits on the couch, and Lucas is closing the door behind them.

“Steve!” Dustin shoves himself up from the ground and runs over to his de facto mentor but he stops short. Nancy stands poised, a car sitting in idle, ready. She watches him cautiously and Steve’s grateful to know she’d put the kids first. “Are you okay?”

Steve rubs at his mouth hoping to god none of Billy’s blood is there. The last thing he wanted to do was taint Dustin’s image of him. The kid looked up to him. Their friendship made him feel like someone worth looking up to. He lets out a manic laugh.

“Not really, Dustin. I’m not doing too good. Nancy, can you come here for a second?” Nancy goes to him. She’s still on her guard, not really relaxed around him. He can’t blame her for the caution but it still hurts. He never wanted her to feel unsafe around him but she was, they all were.

“I’ll explain everything in a second, okay?” She whispers as she passes Dustin, ruffling his hair. He nods, not feeling comforted in the least.

* * *

 It wasn’t just the image of Steve in the chair that was burned into him, it was everything about him. His laugh, mostly heard second-hand, the stupid way his hair flopped into his face during basketball practice, the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled at someone. Billy’s heart was pounding erratically. He grabbed thick tufts of his hair pulling it until it stung his scalp. He was broken, he was sick. He was a faggot.

He couldn’t stop his foot from tapping against the tile. He’d lost complete control over his body.

“Billy?” The third time was even quieter than the last. It whispered through the gaps around the door, through the keyhole, inescapable.

“Go away.” Billy’s voice was rough and wet, barking out of his lungs harshly. It didn’t matter, he knew she would still leave.

She did and somehow it hurt, but he finally felt like he could breathe again. He closed his eyes and just tried to breath. In and out. Deep, full breaths.

* * *

 “What happened to Billy, Steve?” Nancy stood by the door, not moving any further into the room than she had to to close the door.

“He offered to, uh, to feed me?” His voice rose in uncertainty. “He mentioned that if this thing could spread that I’d already bitten him so…”

Steve shrugged.

“He’s already lost a lot of blood, Steve.” She chastised him.

“I didn’t want him to! It’s not like I asked or anything. He just...well…” Steve waved his hand in the air as if that explained everything.

“He just said you could bite him?” Nancy was confused. It didn’t make any sense. Billy hated Steve. He hated all of them. Why would he let Steve bite him?

“Yeah. I didn’t want him to but I was so hungry, Nancy. It’s gets so hard to remember why I should say no.” Steve rested his head in his hands. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Hey, it's okay.” Her body lurched towards him but she held herself back. She wanted so badly to comfort him but she knew that would only add to his temptation. It brought to mind her AP english class, they’d just learned about the torment of Tantalus. A tragic figure to be pitied, surrounded by a sea of water but unable to drink.

“Could you tie me up again. I think I’m alright for now but why risk it, right?” He smiled up at her trying to lighten the weight of his words but only adding to the burden on her heart.

* * *

 Through the blackness of his closed eyelids he could still see Steve perfectly. He wanted to scoop out his eyes, his brain. Anything to rid himself of this. It _hurt_. Why did it hurt so much?

He sat there for a long while. Blood pooled and dripped down his arm, dropping in muffled pattering dollops against the dusty tile and still he sat. As much as he willed it, his revelation wouldn’t leave him. He was queer. He wanted Steve.

Neil was going to kill him.

That was the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was his life. If Steve didn’t kill him his own father would. It stung to know all the times his father had thrown that word at him he’d been right. ‘ _So that’s why you’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some faggot_.’ How had he known when Billy hadn’t even known? Was there something about him people could just see? Something different, something marking him as other.

He’d seen faggots before. The queers parading themselves on the boardwalk, flamboyant and loud. He’d sneered at them, crossed to the other side to avoid them. They’d winked and blown him kisses and he’d ignored how it set his heart racing. He wasn’t one of them. He was nothing like them with their limp wrists and high pitched effeminate voices.

He still wanted Steve.


	17. Chapter 17

_Breathe in_

 

No one knew. No one needs to know.

 

_Breathe out_

 

He just has to pull himself together and get off this nasty bathroom floor.

 

It was still a few more minutes before his limbs stopped shaking enough for him to push himself off the grimy tile. He couldn't spend much more time in here. Everyone probably already thought he was losing it. He just had to hope they didn't know why.

He looked at himself in the mirror meeting the electric blue gaze of his reflection.

I’m a faggot.

He shut his eyes. Anytime he thought it he could feel a ball of unease and nausea roiling in his gut. He’d thought of Steve before, he’d always been militant about pushing the intrusive thoughts aside but they battered his conscious, and unconscious, mind relentlessly.

He thought he’d enjoyed sex with women because he was supposed to enjoy it. He felt their skin, eyed their breasts, pushed into their sighing bodies because it was expected of him. He’d never been able to cum. That was the kicker. He’d never been able to finish listening to their falsetto gasping moans. He really should have figured this out sooner. He almost laughed at his own stupidity.

He opened his eyes again and stared at his face. Nothing looked different. He looked manic and a bit psycho with the streak of blood holding his curls to the side of his face but he was still himself, still _Billy._ He turned on the faucet letting the water warm as he studied his features, all of them familiar and unchanged by his discovery. He held his hands together so the liquid pooled against his palms then scrubbed it across his face. It ran down his skin dripping pink into the ceramic bowl of the sink. He rinsed out his hair and the small bite on his arm.

He dug an old bandage out of the first aid kit Nancy had used on him. He could cover it up, he could continue pretending. Knowing this about himself didn’t change anything. Steve still didn’t want anything to do with him and he didn’t want anything to do with this whole shit show. He’d go out there into the room full of prepubescent assholes and he’d act like nothing had changed, because it hadn’t. He was still Billy Hargrove and he’d be damned if a bunch of kids got the better of him.

* * *

 

Nancy stepped out of the bedroom leaving Steve tied to the chair. He looked better out of those stained, ruined clothes. Hopper’s oversized flannel drowned his small frame but it was far better than staring at a reminder of the danger Steve was in, or that he posed, all of the time. Of course the scar, and she used that term lightly, on his forehead served just as well as a reminder. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination but when she’d looked back at her former lover from the door she was almost certain it looked bigger than it had before.

She shook her head and closed the bedroom door behind her. She was being silly. Steve was acting much more like himself since Billy had, uh, _donated_ to him.

“What’s going _on_?!” Dustin gripped his unruly curls facing Nancy desperately. Steve had resignedly given her permission to tell them after she explained that they’d probably intercepted her attempt to contact Hopper on the radio.

“We think Steve’s infected with something from the Upside-down.”

“I-is it the Mind-flayer?” Will’s timid voice sounded in the room. His brother sat down next to him in an attempt to comfort him.

“We don’t know for sure but it seems different. Hopper went to go get Dr. Owens. He might be able to figure out what’s going on.”

“Yeah because he was such a help with Will.” Mike said sarcastically.

“Well, do you have a better idea?” Nancy challenged.

“What’s even wrong with him? He seemed fine. I mean other than that stuff on his face.” Lucas gestured to his own forehead.

“He…” Jonathan tried. He grimaced a little trying to work out what to say in his own head.

“He’s a goddamn vampire.” Billy finally opened the door to the bathroom matching beige bandages plastered over his arm and neck. His hair was still a little pink where it had been brushed with blood. He was leaning against the door frame. Everything about his posture said he was relaxed but Max could see the tension in his eyes.

“What?!” Dustin shouted.

“Vampire aren’t real.” Mike said matter of factly.

“Tell that to Harrington.” Billy shrugged. “Aren’t you shits supposed to be in school anyway.”

“Aren’t you?” Lucas threw back at him.

“Billy, are you okay?” Max asked quietly from his side so the others couldn’t hear. She’d been worried about him earlier and now she was only more worried. The deep bags under his eyes had only gotten worse and Max couldn’t help linking his bandages with what he was saying. Had Steve bitten Billy? And why had he locked himself in the bathroom?

“I’m fine, shitbird.” Billy whispered aggravatedly then he turned to the rest of the kids. “Look, if you don’t believe me just ask your best friend tied up in the other room.”

“Steve’s a _paladin_ , he can’t be a monster.” Dustin spoke like he was explaining a very simple concept to someone very dumb.

“Dustin...it’s true. Steve attacked Hargrove. He said he couldn’t control himself.” Nancy paused. She didn’t want the kids to be afraid of Steve but she needed them to understand he wasn’t himself. “He seems like he’s okay for now if you wanted to go talk to him.”

Dustin felt nervous, which was stupid. Steve was his friend, his mentor. Steve wouldn’t hurt him. Dustin nodded and the other kids gathered around him all ready to go in together.


	18. Chapter 18

Steve shifted around on the seat. The wood was starting to feel uncomfortable. His brief release had helped. Walking around and stretching had relieved the small pressure aches in his thighs and his lower back but now they were stubbornly making a reappearance, returning like a gnat to buzz around his awareness. The stressed joints of the chair creaked under his movement. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes. He sucked in a breath and tried not to focus on the little nettling sensations crawling across his skin. The warm satisfied hum from Hargrove’s blood had already fled, it’s tendrils of caressing pleasure fading like smoke. Now his skin felt itchy and far too small. 

At most it had been ten minutes, how could he already be feeling like this? Before he’d been fine for  _ hours _ . Did that mean it was getting worse? Steve shook his head in denial. No, no Hopper was getting that creepy doctor from the lab and he was going to fix him. Then he wouldn’t be gnawing his lip imagining it was Hargrove’s skin. He wouldn’t be plagued by thoughts of pinning the other boy down and taking his time, making him cry out and beg. 

He couldn’t help from thinking about that first night he’d immobilized the blond against that car. He’d felt a surge of power, turning the tables on a person who’d so thoroughly beaten him in the past. It had been intoxicating, but not as much as the liquid thrumming behind his so recently sunkissed skin. Steve clenched his eyes tighter and tried to push the thoughts back but the harder he pushed against them the more that filtered through. The way the smell of tobacco hung around the boy like a cloud and mixed with his cologne, the two scents that should have been overpowering and discordant instead wove around one another, harmonizing and creating something uniquely Billy. The feel of his skin, softer than it seemed, when Steve had brushed it with his tongue. He’d caught the residual bitter, chemical taste of his cologne at the back of his throat but his otherwise clean skin had been irresistible. Steve’s jaw clenched and his teeth pierced the flesh of his bottom lip. The sharp pain snapped Steve out of his thoughts enough to register the sound of the doorknob turning.

* * *

 

Billy lounged on the couch his limbs occupying as much space as he was capable of in the hopes the other teens would take the hint and leave him the fuck alone but, of course, Nancy wasn’t so easily deterred. She took a spot close enough to be annoying but not actually touching Hargrove. She’d barely sat down before she talked, utilizing the boldness she’d learned many times over by this point.

“Max seems worried about you.” Again it wasn’t a question. Even in her brief times spent with Hargrove she’d learned questions echoed far too close to challenges in his ears. 

“It’s not me she should be worried about.”

“Steve said you let him bite you.” Her inflection rose at the end of the statement trying to prompt a response, it worked.

“You didn’t see him before. If it gets that bad again…” He trailed off.

“So, you let him bite you so he wouldn’t lose himself.” It didn’t seem right, or at least it didn’t sound like the whole truth. There was something he wasn’t saying, something he was trying to hide. “Billy, why’d you go back to the junkyard after Steve attacked you?” 

The hairs of the back of Billy’s neck bristled and his short fuse ignited in a brilliant flash.

“I was going to kill him,” He sneered. “stab him with a fucking broken chair leg. That what you want to hear? You want to hear how he’s a fucking monster, just as bad and dangerous as those demo-whatevers? But, then again, maybe you don’t actually give a shit. I mean how long did it take you to jump into bed with Byers over there? One day? Two? Or could you not even wait that long?” 

“Hey!” Jonathan stood up from the chair he’d been sitting in.

“It wasn’t like that.” Nancy wrapped her arms around herself, the old guilt bubbling up again. She looked at Billy, his shrewd eyes and sharp tongue, he was doing this on purpose to try and cut the thread she was pulling on. She tried to quell the tide of emotions his words swept up in her to focus on her goal. Her eyes turned cold as steel. “Why didn’t you kill him? What stopped you? When Jonathan and I got there it didn’t look like you were planning an attack. If you really think he’s beyond saving why did you help him?”

Billy wasn’t used to so much resistance. He was good at manipulating people whether it was to draw them in like moths to his fire or to push them away didn’t matter but Nancy wasn’t playing by his rules and it left him feeling wrong footed. He was sure she would storm away in an angry huff, maybe slap him for his trouble but instead she’d pushed back. Her and Steve really weren’t that different. 

“I…”  Billy’s eyes were wide and lost. 

* * *

 

The door swung open making that unsettling creaking sound doors always seem to make just when you don't want them to. Dustin stood at the threshold looking in. The room was dim, the sun all but absent and the small lightbulb in the ceiling failing at its task as a substitute. It gave the whole scene a sense of being out of time. Outside of the room the sun shone and birds chirped, there were colors in the vibrant greens of pines and the deep maroon of Nancy’s jacket. Inside, well, inside was another story. Steve’s head was tipped forward dust motes floated around his head in a mockery of a halo. The single, pale light source casting his features in shadow. After a second of uncanny stillness the senior raised his head and it took almost everything in Dustin not to flinch under his scrutiny. Something in his brain was screaming at him  _ run, run as far and fast as you can. _ Steve smiled, the corners of his mouth stretching just a bit too far.

“Hey, Dustin.” The light above his head flickered.


	19. Chapter 19

“Hopper?”

“Hi, Joyce”

“Donald, I'm taking my lunch!” Joyce shouted to the silver haired man stocking shelves. She didn’t wait for a response before she waved Hopper to a bench outside. Joyce sat down but the old cop didn't join her. He took his hat off and scruffed his hand through his hair trying to buy some time. 

“Joyce, there's a situation.” Immediately Joyce's whole demeanor changed. There was a note of fear, sure, but the reigning emotion was stubborn determination. This is a woman who'd seen the world open up to hell beneath her feet and she barely stumbled. 

“Is Will alright? Jonathan?”

“Yeah, both your boys are fine. It's the Harrington's kid.”

“Steve? What happened?”

“We're not sure. He...well…”

“Spit it out, Hop.”

“He attacked another kid, bit him.”

“He bit him?”

“Yeah. Jonathan and Nancy are with him now at the cabin. He seems coherent. He sounded like himself, at least he did when I talked to him. But, Joyce, he's not looking too good.” Hopper finally sat down nervously rubbing his hat in his hands.

“How's the other kid?”

“A little beat up, but he'll be fine. I gave Dr. Owens a call, thought he might be able to help.”

Joyce waited for him to continue, she knew there was more. Hopper grimaced under her scrutiny.

“He's out of the country. Says he might not be able to get back for a few days.”

“And you don't think Steve can last that long.” Joyce didn't panic, she never did. Instead she started thinking her way through the problem.

“I'm not sure what we can do for him.”

“What about Jane? Is there anything she can do?”

Hopper looked at the ground and smiled, like just thinking of her brought his mind to a better place. Joyce noticed he smiled a lot more since the adoption papers went through.

“I'm sure she'd try, but if it's anything like what happened to Will it won't do any good and I'd rather not get her involved unless it's the last resort. She's already been through so much. I'm not sure how much more weight her small shoulders can take.”

Joyce nodded. She understood Hopper's need to protect his daughter. 

“Have you told his parents?”

“I tried to call them first. Their answering machine said they're out of town, won't be back until Saturday.”

“They'd want to know, Hop.”

“I know, I know. I'll get someone at the station to track them down, but right now it's the kid that needs us.” Hopper got up putting his hat back on getting ready to leave. “Well, I just wanted to fill you in. I'll keep an eye on Jonathan and let you know if anything changes.” 

“Hold on.” Joyce got up holding up her finger to make sure the Chief wouldn't leave. He waited patiently but uncomfortably as she hurried into the store. She pulled aside her boss gesturing emphatically and pointing out the window at the Chief. Hopper waved but kept his face serious. Her boss crossed his arms briefly before apparently giving in and waving her out of the store.

“What was that all about?”

“What do you think? I'm coming with you.”

“Joyce…”

“You're right, Hop, he needs us and we're going to be there for him.”

* * *

“I…” the light in the living room flickered above Billy's head. He hardly noticed, his mind scrambling to answer the question posed to him. He was desperate for an answer that wouldn't give him away, something other than his confusing, desperate lust.

“Jonathan!”

“I know. There's a rifle in that closet over there.”

“Rifle? What's going on?” Billy was glad Nancy's attention was elsewhere for the moment but it was only because some new threat seemed to be present.

“The light!” Nancy gestured above his head at the still oscillating bulb.

“So, the cabin's old? I don't get it.”

“It's a sign, it means something's coming through.” Jonathan explained as he ran to the room with the kids his instinct to protect will taking over.

“From that hell dimension? Give me a weapon!” Nancy paused in her attempt to stuff ammo into her pockets. She considered the volatile man standing beside her.

“I'm the best fighter you've got.”

“How's your aim?” Nancy asked holding the small pistol in offering. Billy took the handgun turning it over in his palm.

“This thing loaded?”

“Nancy! I don't think it's a Demogorgon, get over here!” Jonathan shouted from the room holding Steve.

* * *

All of the kids flinched at the strobe effect of the light, it’s meaning far more sinister to them than faulty wiring. Their eyes scoured the walls and the ceiling looking for breaks in reality but everything was calm and solid. Finally, their eyes came to rest, once again, on the man tied to the chair. In the eerie, uneven light his features almost seemed to change. No, that's not right it wasn't his bones altering, it was his skin. There were small whip like vines snaking down his forehead their infection spreading. Steve looked like it hurt. His face contorted in a myriad of unpleasant shapes.

“Steve?” Dustin called out tentatively. Dustin heard hurried footsteps behind him and he turned to see Jonathan pushing his way into the room. The middle schooler looked back at the central figure, tressed up. The black was spreading, writhing down his neck in a sickening slither.

Steve thrust his head backward baring his throat. Sweat beaded and dripped down his hair. The black ooze spread its fingerlike projections gripping and pulling at flesh. Steve's mouth was open in a silent scream of agony and his eyes gazed beseechingly.


	20. Chapter 20

Billy shoved the pistol into the waistband of his jeans before following Nancy's footsteps to the doorway of the bedroom. He didn't gasp at what he found, only chicks do that, but it was a near thing. Half of Harrington's face was painted black and it seemed to extend all the way down his neck to just past the hem on the sleeve of his borrowed shirt.

“Dustin...please…” Steve managed to grind out in-between thrashing, violent movements. “Let me….just a little, I promise.”

“What's wrong with him?” Dustin turned to Nancy there were the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

“He's getting worse.” Nancy inched forward trying to put herself between Steve and the rest of the group, pushing them backwards. “I think we should get out of the room. Now.”

“No!” Steve screamed. His arms were pulling at the ropes, their braided strands straining against the force. “Please...I just need a little. Please!” His eyes searched the crowded door looking at all of their faces. “Billy! Billy, please! I'll do anything. Just, just let me…”

Billy’s heart lurched at the desperate plea. He couldn’t help from imagining his rival uttering the same words with the same tortured urgency but in a very different scenario. It brought his breath up short, made his fingers tremble again. Now that he’d acknowledged it Billy could no longer ignore the heat, the _fire_ , Steve inspired in him. Not that he’d ever really managed that feat before. It was terrifying, but not so much as the tableau playing itself out before his eyes.

The infection was still spreading, it had reached Steve’s right hand. It was almost as if the cut on his forehead had reopened, what passed for blood spilling down his body. But it wasn't blood and it wasn't flowing across his skin, it was spreading _through_ it. The sight, the way Steve was begging, the hopelessness of it was almost pitiable and that more than anything fanned the flames of rage in Billy’s breast. Harrington, the spoiled rich brat, should never be pitied. He was to be envied, coveted, admired but never pitied. It was beneath him.

Steve's body shook with another wave of violent agony. He bit his bottom lip against his screams, the unnaturally rapidly healing lesion split open once more. He bit so hard he almost managed to bite clean through. Teeth almost clacking against one another when there should be a barrier, hard enough to spill more black slime from his veins. The fluid flowed from the corners of his mouth to drip down his chin, it’s color almost indistinguishable from the substance crawling through his skin at an alarming rate. It was horrifying to see him so transformed, the former king of Hawkins brought low and mangled into something grotesque and barely human. That was, if he even still had any humanity left.

“Everyone out now!” Billy shouted shoving small heads and shoulders out of the room and getting some help from the other teens. Billy looked behind him at the grisly picture only clearly visible every other second when the bulb deigned to function as it should.

“Billy…” Steve’s voice broke in distress, almost despair but there was danger behind his eyes. Billy shut the door.

“What happened? You said he was fine!” An irate Dustin yelled.

“He seemed better after Billy…”

“We gave it what it wants.” Will Byers voice was quiet, barely audible over the agitated shouting if his peers.

“What?” Billy asked hoping he'd elaborate, hoping he might know something they didn't.

“We keep giving it what it wants, just like the mind-flayer.”

“Will's right,” Jonathan stated confidently. “The only way we were able to get that thing out of Will was burning it out.”

“Okay, let me get this straight, you want to keep pretty boy locked up in that room and starve him until whatever demon is possessing him just decides to leave? Were you just in that room? It’s in his skin, in his blood. You really think it’s just going to get out and he’ll be good old Harrington again?”

“What other choice do we have? If you have any better ideas I’d love to hear ‘em.” Billy crossed his arms in front of his chest and narrowed his eyes.

“If we do nothing, if we let him go hungry, we could end up killing him. That good with you?”

“That’s rich! Why would you be worried about killing him? If it weren’t for your sister you’d’ve put him in the ground months ago!” Billy ground his teeth against each other.

“look, if I wanted to kill him I had plenty of time to do that in the junkyard. Every time he’s… eaten… He’s gotten better.”

A scream, no it wasn't a scream, a scream implied humanity. It was a roar, inhuman and booming erupted from behind the door. It was long and painful and ripped all of the air out of the cabin leaving a vacuum of silence in its wake.

“Are you sure those ropes will hold?” Lucas’ nervous voice filled the hollow quiet left behind.

“We should lock the door.” Nancy said.

“Any bright ideas on how to do that, it opens inwards.” Billy brought a fresh cigarette to his lips, clenching and unclenching his hands trying to still the tremor in his fingers.

Nancy ignored him and began to dig through the closet next to the front door. She shoved a few things aside an pulled out a hockey stick and a few coats.

“Okay we need to barricade the sticks across the doorway and tie them to the handle.”

“What're the coats for?” Mike asked.

“We're out of rope.”

The group set about tying the sturdiest looking coat to the hockey sticks and then fasting the makeshift barricade to the door handle. The sticks rested across the wooden door jam held in place by the tension from the coat fabric. They all stood back assessing. It looked sturdy, strong. As they stood there Steve screamed again. The terrifying sound was amplified by the sharp crack and snap of rope pushed past it's limits. Suddenly the hockey sticks looked flimsy,  thin twigs standing between them and certain death, it was kindling ripe for burning.


	21. Chapter 21

The door rattled violently. The cloth of the coat strained and the wood of the hockey sticks groaned. Everyone in the room held their breath in anticipation. Billy reached behind him resting the palm of his hand against the body warmed metal of the gun handle but the coat's woven strands held and the door once more sat still and silent.

Billy released a shaky breath and let go of the weapon.

“Alright, braniacs, you always seem to have a plan what now?”

“We wait.”

“That's it? We just fucking wait?”

“His body needs to become inhospitable to it. It's the same thing as getting a fever, your body needs to become a hostile environment, kill it off from the inside.”

“People can die from a fever.” Billy spat.

“You really think Steve would want to live like this?” Nancy questioned. It hurt to hear, mostly because Billy knew the truth of her words. Steve himself had confirmed them, but it wouldn't come to that. He wouldn't let it.

“Beats being six feet under.”

“Billy…”

“No! I've fucking had enough from your fucking monster squad. You don't give a shit about him. Your big plan is to let him rot in a room because actually doing shit is too dangerous!”

“Don't you dare. You may have heard what we've been through but you don't _know_! You didn't live it! Any of us would die for him...and he'd do the same for us.” There were tears in Nancy's eyes.

“Bullshit! You abandoned him. Broke his heart and left him alone to pick up the pieces. Maybe if you hadn't ditched him you would've noticed something was wrong. Maybe, if you cared, it might have been soon enough for us to do something about it. But no, you don't care. None of you do, you fucking cowards!” Billy stormed away ripping open the front door and stomped outside into the cool air. He leaned against the side of the cabin letting the door slam shut behind him.

He sucked in a lungful of nicotine rich smoke hoping it would do what it'd never managed to before and sooth his searing anger.

It didn't.

* * *

 

“Is that Max's brother?” Joyce squinted outside the windshield of Hopper's car.

“Mmhmm” Joyce looked at the side of Hopper's face trying to read his expression. He put the car into park and opened the door ready for a confrontation, as most people are when they see Billy.

“Where's the doctor? You said you'd bring help!”

“He's on his way. Now, why don't we head back inside?”

“‘ _On his way’,_ what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means he's on his way.”

Joyce joined Hopper outside of the car hoping to quell the storm brewing.

“Billy, it's clear you care about Ste-” before Joyce could continue her thought Billy pushed himself off of the wall.

“I don't give a fucking about Harrington!” Billy's hackles were raised. The icy fingers of panic had started digging themselves into the already tender muscle of his heart. He couldn't care, Harrington was dying. None of these assholes was going to save him. Either he was going to starve to death in that room or he'd manage to get out and his ex would shoot him with a rifle, there was no good outcome. Harrington's only hope had been that shady doctor and now the final string of hope had snapped. He had to get out of here.

“Billy!” Hopper yelled after the teen as he trudged to his car.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” Billy drew the pistol Nancy had given him and pointed it at the cop.

“Billy, please.” Joyce started trying to speak quietly, direct his attention away from Hopper. His eyes flicked to hers and there was doubt, fear, and so much more swirling around the turbulent ocean of his irises.

“Let him go.” Hopper stood still recognizing how unstable the situation was, how easy it would be to escalate. Billy scrambled his keys out of his pockets jamming it into the lock, got in and drove off pushing the car to howling speeds.

“Hop, we can't just let him go.”

“He never should've been here in the first place. If we need to find him we can.”

“You'd tell the Lab?” She knew Billy was dangerous. With the way the kids told her about what happened between him and Steve you'd think he was from the Upside-down, but he was just a scared kid.

“We can't let this thing, whatever it is, spread. I'd rather not get them involved but I'll do what I have to.” The cold determination etched into the stone of his face scared Joyce a little but she didn't say anything


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos. I can't believe this story made it to 200, you're the best.

Billy flew down the rough backstreets of rural Indiana. It was getting dark out now. The night was swallowing up the colors casting everything in muted tones. His frantic eyes darted around the road. His creaking knuckles did their best to break the leather steering wheel through sheer force and his heart pounded an unsteady rhythm in his chest. 

He pulled off the road, his still speeding tires kicked up the gravel on the shoulder as he braked suddenly.

He turned off the car and screamed pounding his fists against the steering wheel, against the dashboard, the window. A small crack like a spider web spun out from where his knuckles struck the liquid sand and a hot tear streaked a trail down his cheek.

* * *

 

Hopper opened the door to his cabin which had seen more use in the past few months than it had for decades. It was strange seeing the place so full of life, of worry...of fear. He took note of the strange obstruction affixed to his bedroom door.

“What happened?”

Nancy lowered the gun she'd previously had trained on the barricaded door to focus her attention on the new arrivals.

“Steve got worse.” Lucas shrugged. He tried not to show how much the situation was affecting him.

“You don't say?” Hopper questioned sarcastically.

“Mom?”

“Oh Will, honey. Come here.” Joyce pushed past her old friend and hugged her son to her chest. She wished, not for the first time, that the comforting shield of her arms could keep all the horrors of the world at bay. She ran her fingers through his soft hair and kissed his forehead before letting him go. He'd outgrown her attempts to shelter him a long time ago, as had her oldest. “Jonathan, why is the door barred?”

“Where’s Billy?” Maxine asked.

“He left.” Hopper replied. There was a bitterness to his voice. Max was used to adults being dismissive towards her and she’d learned not to push her luck, it only ever got her in trouble, so she stayed silent. She couldn’t help from thinking about him though. They way he’d fought to try and  _ help  _ steve. It didn't seem right, didn't seem like the  _ step _ -brother she'd grown to know, to be weary of. It almost made her think he was infected with something at first. The more she thought about it, however, the more she understood. She’d noticed the way her brother’s eyes followed the other man. She’d always chalked it up to their dumb teenage rivalry before but now she wasn’t so sure. She never thought she’d see Billy put himself at risk for another person, she didn’t think he was capable of it. Now that he had, and it was clear he had based on his shouting match with Nancy and Jonathan, she knew Steve had to be more important to him than anyone else in his life. 

Nancy kept her gun lowered as Jonathan explained, as best he could, what had happened. Steve, or whatever he was now, seemed to have stopped trying to break free but she didn't think for a moment that this was over. Far from it, she expected things to get much worse. 

“Steve? Kid?” Hopper spoke through the door once Jonathan had finished his abridged update.

“Chief?” Came the soft reply slightly muffled by the wood.

“How you feeling in there?”

“I think I'm doing better. You can let me out now.” Steve's voice sounded steady and sure, almost pleasant. A stark contrast to the begging he'd been doing before. Nancy's grip on the rifle tightened.

“You know I can't do that right now but Dr. Owens is on his way. When he gets here he'll check you over.”

“How long?” The pleasant quality to Steve's voice had dropped suddenly. His reply felt cold. Nancy had never heard Steve's voice so void of emotion, it sent a shiver down her spine.

“He's getting here as fast as he can.”

“How Long?!” Steve shouted through the wood accompanied by the loud slap of an open palm against pine wood. Hopper backed away from the door and drew his weapon without replying. “Let me out! Let me out!”

Hopper motioned for everyone to back up. Joyce took it upon herself to lead all of the kids into the kitchen and put herself in front of them a flimsy border between them and danger but one she’d defend with her life. Jonathan grabbed the largest knife he could find and joined her.

The door began to rattling loudly again. It shook and banged but still held. Steve roared in frustration resorting to banging his fists against the barrier in ineffectual bursts. As suddenly as the outburst started it stopped. The cabin grew silent again, not even the kids daring to break it.

“Joyce, get the kids out of here!”

“No! We’re not going anywhere.” Dustin asserted. The rest of the Party nodded their heads and pushed as close as Joyce would let them to try and see what was happening. 

Then the light overhead began to blink, it flickered sporadically. Nancy could feel her palms sweating against the barrel of the rifle and her breath was coming shorter. She consciously took a deep breath and wiped her hand on her jeans before raising the rifle and pointing it at the bedroom door. Her aim was steady.

Through the flickering illumination Nancy could make out something on the door. There was a dark mound sitting at the center. No, it wasn't a mound, it was a hole forming through the wood and it was growing like it was alive.


	23. Chapter 23

Billy cradled his hand against his chest the knuckles sore from the force with which he’d hit the window. He sucked in a deep breath through his teeth trying to calm down but it was useless. He couldn’t stop thinking of Steve. How irritating his stupid face was. How perfect his hair framed his eyes. Billy clenched his eyes shut and the muscles in his jaw jumped as he ground his teeth. There wasn’t any use thinking about him, there wasn’t anything Billy could do to save him. He was as good as dead. Billy flicked open his glove compartment searching for his pack of cigarettes. He grabbed the thin cardboard box desperately but it crumpled in his fist, empty. Billy ground the box into a small ball and threw it in frustration.

The lightbulb in the streetlight over his car began to flicker on and off letting the darkness of twilight creep up to the car before pushing it back once more. _It's a sign, it means something's coming through._ Jonathan’s voice echoed in his mind.

“God fucking damn it!” Billy angrily turned the key to his car sparking the engine on and letting it roar to life.

* * *

 

The hole, no the portal, through the wood grew spreading wider. It consumed more of the ordinary world and turned it to something grotesque, yet familiar to everyone witnessing it. It was an opening to the Upside-down.

The thing that used to be Steve Harrington slithered through the gaping hole in reality easily breaking the flimsy, fleshy membrane that was the last barrier between him and what he wanted. Nancy tried not to scream as it clawed through the opening and she looked into the face of her former lover. Steve's hand was coated in brown-black ooze, his fingertips were elongated to sharp points and there was something covering his mouth, it looked like...leaves?

The creature stood upright. It swayed there on the spot for a few seconds and everyone in the room held their breath. Both Nancy and Hopper rested their fingers on the triggers of their guns but they didn’t fire. They were ready if Steve attacked but no one wanted this to end in death, not if there was any other way to stop it. The monster’s shoulders rounded down and its two hands, one more of a collection of talons than a human hand, came up to cradle it’s head. It let out a groan of agony as it hunched further in on itself clearly warring with its instinct and who it used to be.

“Steve?” Nancy refused to lower her gun but she had to try something, anything to try and get Steve back. It flinched away from her voice almost as if she had fired at it.

“He’s still in there! Say more, share memories!” Dustin shouted at her. Of course! It was the same with Will. As soon as they started trying to remind him of his friends, his life, he was able to communicate. He’d had some control over his body. Nancy racked her brain to come up with stories, memories, to help Steve remember.

“Our first date! Y-you took me to the diner, Buddy’s Diner. You ordered a burger but I was too nervous. My stomach was so full of butterflies I didn’t think I’d be able to eat anything.”

“N-nancy?” It didn’t sound like Steve’s voice. It was deep and rough, it rumbled like a growl but it was speech, or at least an attempt at it.

“Yes! Do you remember what you did?” Steve stood there swaying back and forth hands still firmly pressed to his face. He hummed deep in his throat. It was an angry sound. “You split your burger with me, cut it in half. Then you ordered a milkshake with two straws.” Nancy’s eyes stung with tears but she didn’t lower her guard. The room was deathly still all eyes boring holes into the creature at the center of it. The opening through the door had begun to close, as all doors to the Upside-down did, without a trace of the otherworldly trauma once inflicted upon it.

The silent tension was shattered like a pane of glass in a hailstorm when the roar of a camaro drew near. Nancy’s eyes darted to the door of the cabin before focusing back in on Steve. This was bad. The situation was already volatile, adding Billy back into the mix would likely turn it explosive. Although, she had to admit if it came to a fight, and she was almost certain it must, she’d want Billy fighting in her corner. Thankfully Steve didn’t seem to register the new sound as he was still hunched over, fingers digging into his face.

That changed when the door to the cabin burst open admitting the brash californian into the frayed standoff in the room. Steve’s, or rather what used to be Steve’s, head snapped to the door his hands dropping and his mouth flayed open. The things in front of Steve’s mouth that Nancy had mistaken for leaves were actually made of flesh which now peeled away from his pointed teeth in thick folds as he snarled. Nancy sucked in a shocked gasp her fingers trembling against the trigger of the rifle.

Billy tried to suppress a shudder. It was grotesque, the thing standing before him. Some Frankenstein monster that once dreamt of humanity. Doubt crept into Billy's mind as he faced down the twisted malformation of a man in front of him. But no, he’d made his decision, he wasn’t going to let Harrington die here.

“Farrah Fawcett!” Dustin shouted as he slipped past Joyce’s defenses. Steve’s head whipped to focus on him but he still didn’t move, whatever was left of Steve refusing to attack his friends. “W-we were setting a trap for Dart,” Dustin gulped, “walking along the train tracks, and you told me a secret.” Now that Steve’s attention was off of him Billy started to act. If he could just get close enough maybe he could subdue Harrington, bind him again. Then at least they'd have more time to solve this.

First he dug the pistol out of his waistband and handed it off to Jonathan, then he started edging his way around the room trying to move as quietly and stealthily as possible.

“You told me how to style my hair like yours.” Dustin continued. Billy slipped past the Chief. He was almost there, almost behind Steve.

“When it’s damp, not wet, damp. Do four puffs of Farrah Fawcett spray.” Dustin finished.

Billy leapt at the monster tackling it to the ground. He locked his arms across its body in a vice like grip, trapping it’s arms to its side. They struck the ground together Steve’s head thumped against the floor. He howled in rage and thrashed but Billy held strong. Joyce grabbed Dustin and pulled him behind her. Jonathan moved closer aiming his pistol at the conflict.

Steve convulsed violently the poison in his veins shifted. It started to slither across his skin once more, changing his body. Billy's grip strained and nearly slipped, his muscles bulging in effort but he managed to keep his hold. Steve near growled in frustrated anger lashing out with an inhuman force.

 

 _Crack!_ A loud hollow sound like the snapping if a dead twig rang out in the room and Billy screamed.

 

 

“Billy!” Max shouted. She wanted to run to him but Joyce grabbed her too, kept her wrapped up in her arms even as she struggled to get free, to get to her brother. He was an asshole but he didn't deserve to die.

Billy screamed and he grunted and he cried but he kept holding on. If he let go Steve would be shot. He could feel his arm bending at an odd angle, could feel bones grinding against each other unnaturally but it never even occurred to him to loosen his grip. Steve's thrashing became more desperate, more erratic. The foreign liquid tainting Steve’s body began to recede from the surface. His unnatural features diminishing. Suddenly, Steve’s movements took on the characteristics of a seizure more than a conscious escape attempt.

Steve's head shook back and forth, his eyes rolled back in his head and his stomach convulsed causing him to heave sickly. He shook in sporadic fits and starts and his lungs weazed sucking in air unevenly. Billy could feel him dry heaving under his arms like he'd just tried to best the new keg stand record. With a final rattling cough black sludge spewed out of his mouth and onto the wooden floor.

“Ewww!”

Nancy couldn't really be sure who said it, she suspected it was one of the kids, but she agreed wholeheartedly.

Steve pulled in a shuddering breath, and it was Steve now, all traces of the monster he had been were gone, as if they’d never happened. His body still shook a little, his muscles still firing, but calming. His stomach still convulsed and he coughed and gulped and heaved for a few more minutes before stilling.

“Harrington?” Billy's teeth were clenched in pain but he dared not let go until he was sure.

“I-I think I'm okay.” Steve's voice was hoarse but still understandable. Billy couldn't be sure it was true, that he was actually okay this time, but at this point his strength was gone. All he could do was hope this wasn't a trick. He hissed in a breath and let go of Steve, instantly crying out as soon as he tried to move his right arm.

“Shit, Hargrove!” Steve looked down in horror at the oddly bent forearm still gingerly draped over his torso. “Don't move. Nancy, you said you know first aid right?”

“Yeah.” Nancy lowered her gun and handed it off to Jonathan before running to grab the medical kit in the bathroom. Steve gingerly eased himself out from Hargrove's grip and helped the other boy lean against the side of the sofa before backing off as much as he could. Joyce finally let go of Max and she ran over to her brother, her eyes were red and puffy but if there had ever been any tears she'd been sure to wipe them away. She stopped short of hugging Billy, or of touching him at all really. He looked up at her from the floor taking in her distraught face and wild hair.

“I'm fine, shitbird.” He looked away from her eyes. It was easier to pretend she didn't care, but it was nice to know someone did.

Max had other plans though. She knelt next to him and forcefully wrapped her arms around his shoulders, careful of his newly fractured limb. She held him tightly until, still in a bit of shock, he tentatively wound his left arm around her. She pressed her face to the side of his.

“I won't tell Neil.” She whispered into his ear and his heart stopped. His arm tightened around her and his first instinct was to threaten her, make sure she'd never say a word. Because he knew what she was talking about. He'd just risked his life for _Steve Harrington_ of course she'd figured it out. Instead of threatening her though he held her, he took a deep breath, and then he let her go.

Nancy made her way back out into the living room with the medical supplies and set to work. It didn't take long for her to craft a makeshift splint and wrap some ace bandages around the break. While she was treating Billy most people were watching Steve, still waiting for something to go wrong, for that monster wearing their friends face to rear its head again but Nancy was looking at Billy. She squinted her eyes and looked at his face, at his broken arm, and then finally, at Steve. Steve, for his part, kept his eyes on the floor, on the pool of black sap coating a significant portion of the worn wooden planks.

“Alright, both you boys get in the truck. We're going to the hospital.” Hopper had finally holstered his gun accepting that whatever this had been, it was over.

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Steve's voice was still weak, his eyes never strayed from the sinister fluid.

“No. No, I'm not but you need to see someone and right now the hospital's our best shot. Don’t worry about school or your parents. I’ll take care of it.” Hopper said. Billy couldn't contain the shrill disbelieving laugh that bubbled out of his mouth as he cradled his broken arm. Hopper scratched at the hair under his hat fully aware of just how difficult a task he'd given himself. “I’ll think of something, kid.”

Both of the teens shuffled out of the building beaten and broken but alive. Which was more than either of them thought they'd get when all was said and done. Billy pulled open the passenger side door of Hopper's truck giving Steve a look that said _fight me for it_ on the surface but the corners of his mouth ticked upwards. Steve just smiled and shook his head taking his place in the backseat. Billy reclined the seat slightly and dug around Hopper’s truck. Steve gave him a puzzled look until Billy pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. Billy looked back at Steve with a shrug and a “I don’t think he’ll mind.”

Dustin ran for the kitchen grabbing rubber cleaning gloves, a spoon, and a small mason jar before hurriedly making his way back to the living room.

“Kid, what're you doing?” Hopper questioned exasperatedly.

“I'm taking a sample.” Dustin said as he started to scoop up the thick black substance.

“Just... don't touch it, alright?” Hopper sighed before leaving to join the boys in the car, he knew it was useless trying to fight the middle schooler on this.

“I'm not an idiot! I'm wearing gloves!” Dustin shouted to the cop's retreating form lifting his neon yellow, rubber coated hands as proof. “Doesn't this look like that stuff from the tunnels?”

“The stuff that hit Steve in the face?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess…it was really dark down there.” Mike and Nancy leaned in to get a better look.

“You think Steve got infected in the tunnels?”

“Maybe. I'm just saying this stuff looks the same as the stuff that sprayed Steve in the face.”

“But, that was months ago. You really think it could be dormant that long?” Nancy questioned. Dustin just shrugged.

Will had walked over to the completely intact bedroom door. He ran his hands over the seamless wood. His fingers bumped and slid over the wood grain looking for something wrong, something to mark what had happened to it, but of course there was nothing.

“He opened a gate to the Upside-down.” Will jumped slightly at Max’s voice. “I thought only a demogorgon could do that.”

“I think...I think he was one.”


	24. Chapter 24

The bright light of the near full moon bounced off the small ripples of the quarry’s lake shattering the steady stream of illumination into a million gleaming shards. It was beautiful, peaceful. That is, until a blue camaro with a cracked window screeched down the previously quiet road and halted suddenly, parking next to a Beemer whose owner was lazily sipping from an open can of beer.

“Alright, I'm here. What do you want?” Steve smiled at the Californian’s brusque attitude. Now he recognized it for what it was, a show.

“Figured I owe you,” Steve reached into the case of beer beside him and threw Billy a can. He caught it easily in his good hand. “A drink for a drink.”

“Real fucking funny, Harrington.”

“Steve. Call me Steve.”

Billy nod his head in acknowledgement.

“Sorry about your arm.” Steve continued. He inclined his head at the hard plaster cast covering Billy's forearm. It had only been a few days but it was already coated in all colors of sharpie and highlighter denoting well-wishes, more than a few phone numbers, and even the impression of a lipstick coated kiss.

“It's fine. I've had worse.”

Steve looked away. He may not have been in his right mind when he saw it but he remembered the patchwork hues of blue, purple, and green that had marbled the blonde's torso like the fabric of a quilt. Even factoring in their altercation in the junkyard Steve knew he couldn't be responsible for all of them.

Steve stared out at the kaleidoscope reflections in the water and let the waves of their voices ripple out into the air consumed by the rock walls around them as Billy joined him, propping himself up against Steve’s car and sipping the cool amber liquid.

“That doctor from the lab finally stopped by.” Steve started. Billy just grunted in response. “Got a clean bill of health. You should really let him check you over.”

“Fuck off. The doctors at the hospital fixed me up, I'm fine.” Steve sighed. He knew it was a long shot, Hopper'd already tried, but Steve thought he might have a better shot. He guessed he was wrong. They lapsed into silence once more, it made Steve itchy.

“You never said what you were doing in the junkyard so late.” Steve knew why he'd been there. He'd been able to put the pieces together, he might not be good at school but he wasn't a complete idiot. Billy clenched his teeth the muscles in his neck standing out in tension. Steve took Billy’s silence for the warning it was.

“Just,” Steve's hand scruffed the back of his neck. He was never good at this, having important conversations. “if you ever need a place to stay...you can come over.” Billy didn’t reply, but he didn’t leave either. His posture loosened and he just stayed there leaning against Steve’s car and continued to smoke and drink the beer Steve had given him. Steve supposed that was answer enough.

They stood in companionable silence for a while both pulling from their beverages quietly and looking up at the stars. They were a lot brighter in Indiana.

“Steve?” Steve stood a little straighter. He could already feel the tethers of their newly formed friendship straining and he didn't want them to snap. They hadn't learned how to just  _ be _ around each other without some disaster looming, the silence felt charged and uncomfortable like both boys were waiting for something to happen but, for whatever reason, Steve didn't want it to end. He didn't want Billy to leave.

“Yeah?”

“Is it true you use Farrah Fawcett hairspray?”

Billy's laugh rang out for the first time free of malice. It echoed off the stone walls of the quarry as bright as resonating crystal. Something warm and blossoming took root in Steve's chest, it's petals unfurled and stretched wide just behind his sternum. Steve looked over at the blonde near doubled over with mirth and smiled.

“I'm going to kill Dustin.”


	25. Epilogue

“Shit.” Steve held the door open, Billy was framed by the rectangular opening. The other boy’s left eye was swollen and an ugly black stained his complexion. All his normally sharp edges had been rounded by the light rain soaking through his curls flattening them pitifully to his scalp.

“Nice to see you too.” Billy chuckled humorlessly. Steve waved the jock through the threshold. Billy entered taking off his damp Jean jacket and throwing it on the floor. Steve sighed, picking it up and hanging it to dry in the closet.

Since Steve had offered his house as a refuge Billy had stopped by a few times a week. Sometimes he just came by to hang out, bringing beer and a movie. Other times, like today, he came with a sour mood and bruise mottled skin. Steve never asked any questions. He knew Billy didn’t want to talk about it. He felt powerless to stop anything and knew Billy would kill him if he tried. Still, at the very least, he could give Billy a safe place to spend the night.

“Let me get you a bag of peas.”

“Sure, I’ll grab the whiskey.” Billy always tried to raid his dad’s liquor cabinet whenever his parents weren't there no matter how much Steve protested. The most frustrating part is how Billy turned on the charm when his parents were there. They would never believe such a sweet young man would ever do something like that. Eventually Steve had given up on trying to stop him. After everything that had happened getting in trouble with his parents didn't have the same impact it used to.

Steve rummaged through his family's packed freezer and pulled out the frost coated plastic bag. He could hear the crisp sounds of the radio start up from the other room. That usually meant Billy didn't want to talk, rather, he wanted to drink until just standing up was a puzzling task too complex to even attempt. Normally Steve didn't mind. He'd go along with it, be there for Billy without actually doing anything, but recently it seemed like something had shifted inside of him.

He felt more and more wrong footed, like he was walking through quicksand. Sometimes Billy would look at him with his eyes of summer sky and Steve felt like he had misstepped and was sinking through the ground.

Steve sighed and shook his head. It didn't help worrying about it. He just had to hope that if he kept ignoring it it'd go away, or at least lessen.

“Think fast.” Steve tossed the bag at Billy's back as he fiddled with the radio dial. The bag slapped him in the shoulder then flopped down onto the ground with a thump.

“Hey, watch it, pretty boy.” Billy bent down to pick up the bag and press it against his swollen eye hissing at the soothing cold.

A shiver of warmth skittered up Steve's spine at the common nickname. Steve had started noticing how often the other boy used it. It didn't mean anything, Billy was just being an asshole.

Billy twisted the knob lightly until the melodic vibrations of guitar and drums we're pumped through the air.

“Metallica, For Whom the Bell Tolls. That's one drink for you.” Steve called out from his position on the couch cushions. Billy flipped Steve off as he took a swig from the open whiskey bottle.

“That was a cheap shot, Steve.” Billy took a spot on the other end of the couch careful to leave a healthy distance between them.

“Rules are rules.”

Steve pulled out an old, worn deck of playing cards and started to shuffle before dealing out the whole deck into two piles. It always felt strange to just sit in silence with Billy. It was better to have something, anything, else to do. Otherwise he knew he'd ask. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from bringing up Billy's home life, his dad. Playing cards at least distracted him enough not to shove his foot in his mouth.

* * *

“Queen, Under Pressure!” Billy shouted just as the song changed. Steve sputtered, his mouth already full of burning whiskey. He quickly swallowed.

“You're cheating! I was already drinking.”

“Rules are rules, pretty boy.” There it was again, that prickle of warmth flowing down his back at Billy's words. Steve glared at his companion but dutifully took his drink. The bottle was nearly dry now.

The cards lay strewn about the coffee table, the, now thawed, bag of peas abandoned on the carpet. Steve's head buzzed pleasantly, static crackled through his neurons fizzling out on his scalp and through his fingertips while the speakers shrilled out their melodic tune. He looked to his left where Billy sat on the ground beside him, both boys having slid off the couch at some point during the night. The blonde had his eyes closed and was nodding his head along with the music.

The soft light in the room illuminated his features flatteringly. Steve could see why all the girls in school had started falling over themselves to get to him. Steve's eyes tracked down his companion's stubble rough cheek, the corner of his pink mouth, to where his strong jaw met the curve of his neck. Then his eyes caught on something out of place. A small crescent shaped dotting of raised skin a lighter shade than that which surrounded it. He'd put that there. He was responsible for ripping the canvas of his, now friend's, skin apart, leaving it to mend imperfectly. Billy's arm had long since healed leaving no trace of the past trauma, but this would always be there.

Steve reached out a hand, the tips of his fingers brushed the rough texture of the scar. Billy's breath hitched and he stilled. His muscles tensed and the calm atmosphere they'd been basking in previously came to an abrupt end. Steve pulled his hand back like it'd been burned. He rubbed his fingers with his other hand hoping to stop the tingling sensation that permeated the digits. He cleared his throat.

“I ran too, you know.” Neither of them had brought up the catalyst to their new friendship since it'd been resolved, but Steve had spoken at length with Nancy about it. Whenever they talked about it Nancy always asked about Billy with this little glint of curiosity sparking in her eye, almost as if she were sharing a secret with Steve, conspiratorial. If there was a secret though, Steve wasn’t in on it. He was still trying to understand and process what had happened to him, what he'd done. Both boys, however, had silently agreed to leave the subject alone. A truce which Steve now broke. “I left Nancy and Jonathan in that house alone. When I saw the Demogorgon clawing itself through the ceiling,” Steve gulped unable to suppress his remembered fear. “I was terrified. I ran.” He paused here daring to look at Billy out of the corner of his eye. He was still tense, sitting with a stillness unnatural to the normally so animated man. “...so I understand if you feel uncomfortable around me.”

“I didn't run because I was scared of you.” Billy scoffed.

“No?”

“No. I…”

Billy stopped. He drank the last of the room temperature whiskey to steel himself. Then he turned to look at Steve, _really_ look at him. His blue eyes flicked back and forth between Steve's brown ones with a silent unknown question. Steve held his gaze steadily and tension sparked in the air between them.

Billy's hand moved from the couch cushions and wove itself through Steve's hair cradling his head. Then Billy surged forward smashing his lips desperately against Steve's. Steve's hands raised to fist in Billy's shirt and he sucked in a shocked breath through his nose.

The pressure between them lessened slightly and the hand holding Steve's skull gentled brushing through his hair pleasantly. Steve should stop this, it was wrong. He wasn't like that, _Billy_ wasn't like that.

Billy's tongue flicked out between his lips to tease at the seam of Steve's. A bolt of lightning seared through Steve's body connecting his lips directly to his dick. He gasped at the intensity and his hands clenched the fabric of Billy's shirt tight. Billy seized the opening like an invitation and dove in.

It was too much, this wasn't right. Steve couldn't bring himself to push Billy away but he found the strength to turn his head, to tear his mouth from the pleasure of Billy's. At least then he might be able to breath, to think.

Billy hardly even slowed at the change, instead he merely refocused his attention on Steve's neck and ear, laving at both in turn. He latched his mouth to a particularly sensitive stretch of skin just below Steve's jaw and sucked harsh enough Steve was sure it'd be visible in the morning.

Steve was wrong, oh god was he wrong. He tried in vain to suppress a guttural moan and Billy just took the noise as further encouragement moving to  Steve's earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and running his tongue along it.

“W-what are you doing?” Steve's voice was breathy and deep and he hated how it made him sound needy and desperate.

“Let me do this for you, Steve. I can make you feel _so good.”_ Steve's eyes cracked open. He could just see the side of Billy's head, his golden curls and dangling earring. He looked down and he saw Billy's shoulder, it was moving up and down slowly but rhythmically. Oh god he was _touching_ himself. Steve groaned low in his throat and his eyelids fluttered shut again.

“ _Shit_ ,” Steve's throat was thick with saliva and he barely managed to squeeze the words through his vocal chords. “o-okay.”

He could feel Billy smile against the side of his face. Without missing a beat the blonde moved his hand from the front of his own pants to Steve's. The brunette gasped and bucked against the pressure just now realizing how hard he'd become.

The snick of his button opening and click of his zipper sliding down was deafening even with the radio turned as high as it was. Steve clenched his eyes tighter. He couldn't believe he was doing this, it felt like a dream. Not that he'd ever dreamt of Billy, he hadn't. I mean there was that one time when he was still sick and trapped on the bus but that didn't count. Did it?

Billy's warm hand skated past his elastic band and brushed the swollen head of his dick and Steve's hips bucked involuntarily. Billy pulled Steve free from his pants exposing his overheated skin to the cool air. He was so hard. God he must be desperate. He hadn't been with anyone since Nancy and that was almost a year ago.

“Fuck. Look at you,” Billy exclaimed and what little blood was left in Steve's arteries rushed to his cheeks. “So _pretty._ ”

Billy's hand wrapped around his tumescent cock and Steve whined tipping his head back against the cushions and just let it happen. Billy started stroking a slow rhythm trying to draw it out, build the tension. He circled his fingers against the shaft but kept his thumb extended to provide extra stimulation to the sensitive frenulum.

Even with the whiskey Steve wasn't going to last very long. Just when Steve thought he was about to cum Billy's hand slowed almost to a stop. Steve groaned in frustrated intensity. He opened his eyes in preparation to ask what was going on but all words failed him at the sight he beheld.

Billy had withdrawn slightly, enough to reposition himself. He'd drawn his legs beneath his hips and untangled his fingers from Steve's tousled hair and he'd...he'd started to bend down.

“ _Fuck_.” Steve's dick twitched violently in Billy's grip. Steve shut his eyes again just as the warm velvet of Billy's tongue swirled around his tip. This was crazy. Billy Hargrove was giving him a blow job. He had his dick in Billy Hargrove's mouth. “Oh fuck!”

Steve's cock twitched once more and Billy hummed his lips now engulfing half of Steve's length. Steve moaned at the odd, but pleasant, buzzing sensation. He really wasn't going to last much longer. Billy swallowed as much of Steve as he could bobbing his head in quick movements. He was done teasing, everything he did now was fast and rough driving Steve closer and closer to the cliff's edge.

“B-billy!” Steve cried out as his legs shook and his vision whited out. His toes curled, sweat dripped down his forehead, and he groaned.

After the ringing in his ears died down and color returned to the world. Steve opened his eyes. Billy was slumped against his chest both of them panting harder than they ever had at basketball practice. They sat like that for a few seconds more before Billy got up, shaking out his legs before walking off. Steve tried not to let his eyes linger but he couldn't help from noticing Billy was no longer hard. Did that mean he'd taken care of himself? Was he jerking himself while sucking Steve off? No, no Steve wasn't going to think about that.

Steve rubbed his face with his hands feeling the muddled quiet of the whiskey soaking his thoughts once again. He wasn't going to think about what just happened, what Billy had done, how it'd felt. It didn't mean anything, it wasn't going to happen again. He tried not to focus on the cold spot on his side where Billy'd been.

“Where're you going?” Steve asked, head still tipped back, exhausted in more ways than one.

“To get a glass of water, I'm really thirsty.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the smut!
> 
> Part 2, chapter 1 is posted! Hope you like it.


End file.
